


Mask of the Gods

by Draconicmaw



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Host!Yugi, Symbiote!Yami Bakura, Symbiote!Yami/Atem, Venom inspired AU, characters by order of appearance, many OCs die
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-02-16 17:45:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18696298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draconicmaw/pseuds/Draconicmaw
Summary: Yugi Muto was just your average struggling college student until one late night. Suddenly, his appearance has changed, and his ability to tolerate the less savory individuals of society is severely handicapped. (Why can't he stop biting people's heads off... literally!) Symbiote!Yami/Atem. Venom!AU. Rated M for violence. No pairings.NO PUZZLESHIPPING. AND NO SMUT. JESUS, PEOPLE <---- Please, AO3 users, don't make this apply to you. *praying hands emoji* I get enough trouble on FFN.Fast updates up to the sixth part due to being copied from my FFN account.





	1. The Shadow of Horus

**Author's Note:**

> To read this fic, no one really needs any former knowledge of Marvel's Venom or how the symbiotes work (especially since I am adding my own little twists). This is inspired in part by Season 0's characterization of the Spirit of the Puzzle. Because he was a bit of a sadistic bastard in that.

They dug in shifts. The heartier men worked the day, when meager tarps and canvas sheets were the only things keeping the desert sun from burning the skin off their backs. Others worked at night, guided by lamps and even torchlight in this primordial wasteland. But now, the horizon was devouring the sun. The day men had just switched with the night men.

“This is fucking stupid,” a laborer growled in English. All of the local guides left immediately. Some superstitious shit about cursed tombs or something. “Why the hell aren't we allowed to use a fucking CAT and some explosives again?”

The man next to him swung his sledge hammer. Metal clanged against sandstone. “Something about not damaging the contents of the tomb.”

“Seems like a wild goose chase to me. We don't even know if we are in the right area, much less what the hell we are looking for.” He grunted he swung again. They were slowly cutting into the cliff side. Key word: _slowly_.

“Eh, at least we are getting paid decent,” the second man panted before he swung. The head of the hammer lodged itself into the rock. It echoed with a hollow _thud._

The pair exchanged glances.

The first man swung. The yellow rock fractured. Tiny fissures veined out. The cracks were black. The bits of rock collapsed inward. A small black hole. The pair laughed and shoved one another.

“Hahaha, we found it!” they called to the others. Their voices rang through the desolate valley.

The others crushed in. A man even stuck his hand into the fist-sized hole. He touched cold, stale, millennia-old air. By the time the moon reached its zenith, an opening large enough for a crouched man tore into the cliff face.

A researcher nudged his way through the brutes. He held a big electric lantern in one hand and some papers tucked beneath his other arm. He was an archaeologist or Egyptologist or whatever the hell they called themselves these days. The laborers didn't care. Some even said that a true archaeologist wouldn't be some desert rat for capitalists, anyways. So it didn't matter.

He wore a face mask. No clue what sort of ancient fungi lurked in these tombs, waited for fresh lungs to decimate. The laborers followed, faces bare.

Sure enough, carvings and paintings scrawled all about.

He frowned. “The portraits of this man have no faces.” He touched a carving with a gloved hand. The faces weren't scraped off by some vengeful defiler. They carved them _without_ faces. A man could not properly travel to the afterlife without a face, or so the ancients believed. He walked close to the walls. He followed the inscriptions, which were supposed to depict the dead person's journey to the afterlife. _Supposed to_. But… this didn't seem like a spell for safe return to divine providence.

“Isn't there supposed to be a coffin or something?” a laborer asked.

“Sarcophagus. Yes,” the researcher absent-mindedly answered.

He turned around. There were _supposed_ to be many things. Jars of vital organs, furniture, food, valuables. But… the tomb was empty. But the walls, save for where they had just entered, were untouched.

No tomb robbers.

He looked back at the carvings.

It _wasn't_ a tomb.

“Hey, I found something over here!”

The researcher immediately whirled. “Please refrain from touching anything yet!”

Too late. There had been a small alcove cut into the rock, shelf-like. A golden box, about the size of a child's lunch box, sat upon it. Or, at least, used to, since it was now in the grubby, sweaty mitts of some brute.

“Put that down! You don't know if it's boobytrapped!” the researcher hissed.

The men laughed. Immature. But the box was replaced upon its shelf. He cautiously approached the shelf. He investigated the walls. There were no seams, no cracks, no holes. No traps. He looked at the carvings in the small alcove.

“They refer to whatever is in this…” It wasn't a tomb. What was it? Perhaps a vault, a safe of some sort? They didn't seem to want anyone to get this box. After all, it was hardly mentioned in records. What got them this far were pale imitations of clues left in obscure text. “As the 'Shadow of Horus.’”

A laborer tapped the top of the box. “So what's in this?”

The researcher delicately lifted it up. The box itself seemed to be solid gold. It strained his arms horribly to pick it up.

“‘Solve the puzzle, and obtain great and dark power,’” he read slowly. He set it back down and tried to open it. It was closed tight. He couldn't even get the lid to wiggle.

“Looks like there's something on the top,” one of the laborers said.

The researcher blinked. Indeed, little gold tiles. He cautiously fingered them. They could slide. He shifted one. Something in the box clicked. He peered intently at it, nudged the lid. Nothing.

“Something on the side moved,” a man said.

The researcher moved the same tile again and stared at the box's flank. Indeed, a corresponding tile shifted. He made a noise low in his throat. “I've never seen something quite like this before. Not from ancient Egypt, at least.” And never something as complex as this. He cautiously lifted the box back up. “I hope this is what he was looking for.”

* * *

Back in America. The boss-man decided to have the puzzle box put in a contaminant-free, airlocked environment. They could’ve smashed the box open. But he didn't want whatever was inside damaged.

The researcher wondered just what his boss was expecting.

With gloved hands -- he had an entire stuffy rubber suit on -- he prodded at and slid the tiles. Each of the little plates of solid gold had an inscription. They seemed like hieroglyphics, but they were… corrupt. Either old or some experimental language that never got its feet off the ground. He couldn't quite comprehend their meaning. It made solving the puzzle all the more difficult, and it made no sense. The inscription on the front was clearly legible Egyptian hieroglyphics.

He slid a couple more tiles around. The sides of the box clicked. He glanced at them. Each side tile corresponded with multiple tiles on the top and other side. He made a noise low in his throat.

* * *

Five months passed. His boss grew evermore impatient concerning the puzzle box and its contents.

The researcher grimaced. He worked on it alone, at night sometimes. That way his boss wasn't breathing down his neck and he could concentrate in peace.

“Mask,” he muttered. After cross-referencing various incarnations of hieroglyphics, he managed to gain some motley knowledge on the text carved into the gold. Certain tiles lined up to make the character for “mask,” which he doubted was a coincidence. So he kept those together as well as he could.

He randomly slid the other tiles. Maybe they would come together and he'd get some inspiration.

He gasped.

“Gods!” he cried. “Mask of the gods!” He slid them in place. The box clicked steadily. “Okay… so the rest…” His eyes burned. He wanted to rub his forehead, but his mask was in the way. “Mm, dammit.” He toiled a little while longer. “Mask of the gods, mask of the gods. I've never heard that term referenced in any text before. Ugh, stupid cryptic Egyptians…” With what remaining tiles, he quickly managed to put more together. “Mask of the gods… jaws… I've never seen this symbol before…” he muttered, fingered the inscriptions. He slid one a little. The box clicked, and then a hiss of pressurized air.

He hastily stepped back. “What the hell?!”

The lid clicked, ajar.

His heart fluttered in his chest.

He grabbed a long-handled tool next to him, and, from a few feet away, cautiously lifted the lid. Ugh, at that angle he couldn't see inside well enough. His brows furrowed. The inside of the lid was a gleaming gray metal, much like stainless steel or titanium.

Neither of which the ancient Egyptians had.

He stepped closer.

“Ugh. What _is_ that?!”

A roiling black sludge. It bubbled up against the silvery confines. He poked it with his tool. Threads of black grasped onto the utensils tip. It _clung_ , _pulled_. He tugged the tool back. The threads slowly sank back, dissolved into formless black.

“Holy shit, it's alive,” he gasped. “The Shadow of Horus.”

He turned, hurried to the phone. His boss needed to hear about this.

Behind him, a wet _slap_ echoed against metal. He glanced over his shoulder. The black sludge roiled and crawled over the lab table. It stretched and regrouped, an amorphous, sentient blob.

He gulped, backed closer to the corner.

His heart fluttered faster. It pounded and made his vision swim. He tried to reason himself out of his fear, but it was futile. Instincts could not be ignored.

He made a dash to the airlock.

It slithered like a snake, but faster, launched at him and wrapped around his ankles. He stumbled. His fingers curled around the edge of a wheeled tray, but it fell with him. He hit the ground hard. Tools scattered all around him with metallic tinkling.

The sludge's deathly cold percolated through the suit, and he shuddered in horror. He kicked his legs desperately, but it clung to him. It groped up around his leg. His eyes grew wide.

It was looking for a way in.

He screamed and kicked his legs again. “No!”

It reached his hip, and he tore at it. It clung to his hand, shifted perfectly around his wrist. He gasped. The inside of his mask fogged up.

It investigated the seal between his gloves and his sleeve. He tried ripping at it again, but it stayed coiled about his arm. It parted the seal with amazing, terrifying dexterity. It slipped between his inner and outer gloves.

He tried tugging it out, but it slipped through his fingers like water. Cold slickness touched the bare skin of his arm. He gasped. The coldness spread through his arm, numbed it. He whimpered in horror when he realized he could no longer feel the wetness of it touching him anymore.

 _It was inside him_.

He stumbled up. The edges of his vision fluttered black. The cold curled through him.

Before he lost consciousness, he managed to slap a hand on the red containment button.

An alarm trilled, lights flashed red. His vision faded to black.

* * *

They'd all received the page at the same time, but they came into the laboratory one-by-one. She turned up last.

The doctor squinted through the flashing red lights. Her colleagues were all gathered before the window peering into the quarantine zone. They murmured,

“He opened it.”

“What happened?”

“He doesn't look too good.”

“No. Why did he take his suit off?”

She squirmed her way to the glass.

Her coworker sat against the wall in his underclothes. The suit was discarded around him. The puzzle box sat opened on the lab table.

His eyes, eyes that she knew were once brown, glared a bright red. Shadows lingered on his cheeks. He looked clammy, pale, _sickly_.

He stared at them through the glass. He blinked slowly. His lips parted. The gathered scientists waited with baited breath.

“This host...” his voice was deeper, it seemed to vibrate the glass even as it crackled through the speaker. “... is inadequate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Millennium Puzzle is the box itself. SCREW THE RULES, I'M A FANFICTION AUTHOR. HA.


	2. What We Don't Know

Yugi's chin slid off the heel of his palm. He jolted, wide purple eyes blinking blearily. He inhaled through his nose and palmed his face. Ryou elbowed him. Professor Romero was still talking. Crap.

“I'd like section three-point-two covered by Monday. The quiz is online as usual. _However_ , you are only getting one try. Several of you are abusing the multiple chance policy,” she continued. “I'm not going to name any names. You know who you are. Class dismissed. I'll see you on Monday.”

Yugi shoved his textbook and binder into his backpack.

“Before you put your chin on your hand, your mouth was open. I was tempted to toss an M&M in there, Yugi,” Ryou said playfully.

Yugi chuckled. “I could use some candy. I'm hungry.”

Ryou offered the bag. “Here.”

Yugi smiled brightly. “Thanks, Ryou.” The other young man carefully dumped the colorful chocolates onto Yugi's upturned palm.

Yugi contemplated them a moment before slapping his hand to his mouth. He just barely had enough room to chew.

They walked out of class together. Ryou politely waited for Yugi to finish chewing before he spoke again. “It isn't normal for you to doze off during class.”

Yugi smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, Joey somehow convinced me to stay up all night to play video games with him.” It hadn't taken all that much convincing, to be perfectly honest.

Ryou chuckled. The gleam of amusement in his brown eyes made clear that he, too, knew. “Uh-huh.”

Yugi shrugged his backpack into a more comfortable position. “Hey, you wanna go to the cafe with me?”

Ryou smiled brightly. “Sure, why not?”

They exited the graphics building and trudged across the square. Students sprawled out across the grass, enjoyed the gentle autumn sun and crisp breeze while they studied and chatted and ate.

Yugi’s stomach grumbled. He picked up speed a little. Ryou’s longer legs easily kept up the pace. They made it to the cafe door, and Yugi held it open.

“Thank you.”

The aroma of icing and doughnuts and coffee assaulted Yugi’s senses. He groaned. “It smells like heaven in here.” He swallowed down the saliva gathering in his mouth.

“Hey, you two!” a cheerful voice greeted. Big blue eyes smiled from behind the register.

Yugi grinned. “Hi, Tea!”

“What can I help you guys with today?” she chirped.

“Uh, I’d like a club sandwich and an espresso,” Yugi answered. He waved Ryou forward. Ryou ordered, and Tea tapped it into the system.

“How’s your grandpa doing, Yugi?” Tea asked gently.

Yugi sighed and shrugged. “Better, I guess. Still has to take it easy, you know? I’m glad it wasn’t anything more serious, like a heart attack or something.” Yugi dug around for change in his backpack. “He’s complaining like no other, though…” Ryou went to reach for his wallet, and Yugi gave him a stern glare.

“Throwing your back out will do that to you.”

A person behind them cleared his throat. Yugi flushed and moved out of the way.

“You didn’t have to pay, Yugi,” Ryou said quietly.

Yugi smiled. “I was the one who invited you to come along with me.”

Their order quickly arrived to the counter. They took the tray and moved to their seats. Yugi was too busy eating to talk much from that point onward.

* * *

 

Crimson eyes blinked. Feverish breath fogged up glass. “This host is dying.”

* * *

The espresso was a bad idea. Yugi’s tiny body could not handle that much caffeine. His fingers shook from where they were clasped around his pen.

Did his eye just twitch.

He poked himself.

He couldn’t tell.

He poked himself again.

He exhaled and scribbled some notes down. Every time he paused, he poked his eyelid. Maybe it was just his imagination. It didn’t seem to be twitching.

_Wait…!_

No. It wasn’t.

He scribbled some notes down and sighed shakily. His knee bounced up and down. No more. No more late-night video games with Joey. No more espresso. No more caffeine in general.

He rubbed his eyebrows. It was already a long day. He just wanted to go home. He doodled on his notebook before scribbling more notes. Maybe the instructor will let them out early.

Yeah, right. Professor Mack liked holding them hostage.

His knee bounced impatiently.

* * *

The cheeks of their coworker were dark and sunken in. Sweat slicked him in a thick layer. His shirt clung to his back. He occasionally stood up to hover close to the window and stare at them with those unsettling crimson eyes. He mostly sat against the wall, eyelids fluttering and head twitching. A growl would often accompany the spasms.

Their boss showed up eventually.

“So… this was what was in the box?” he asked.

“Yes. Some sort of parasitic organism.”

“And the box itself…”

“Well… we haven't retrieved it. It's in containment with him.”

“Go get it, then, you fools!” he boomed.

“We don't know how dangerous it is. It's telling us that he's dying. We don't know how easily it can transfer hosts.”

“I _don't care about him_. What don't you get?! I want the box, now!”

They gulped.

Within the next half hour, they had two people suited up. The creature managed to get through a Level B suit. They secretly worried it would make short work of the Level A ones, too.

They stood in the airlock. The man felt a bead of sweat crawl down the side of his face, even in the ventilated environment of his suit. The… thing seemed to be asleep, curled on its side. The decontamination sequence completed with a trill, and the doors into the quarantine zone hissed open. The pair cautiously stepped in. The woman gritted her teeth. The suits rustled and squeaked with every step, and the staticy warble of their breaths crackled loudly in the oppressive silence of the lab.

The subject remained on the floor.

The man stepped up to the metal lab table. His gloved hands gripped the gilded sides of the box.

Crimson eyes snapped open.

With a restrained grunt, the man lifted up the box.

The creature’s head lifted from the floor. Red, sunken eyes blinked slowly at them. They paused. It slowly sat up. They edged back.

“We just… need this…” the woman murmured.

“You’re killing me,” the creature replied quietly. Its voice… their coworker’s voice…

“We haven’t--”

Arms and legs slowly gathered. It crouched bestially on the floor. They shuffled back toward the door. Veins throbbed black. A long, slick tongue drawled out. Layers of jagged teeth like broken glass.

The woman gasped. “Seal--”

It all happened within a few seconds.

It leapt. It slammed into the woman with the force of a speeding car. She crashed into a cabinet. The crumpling and bending of material tore through the air. She slid, limp to the ground. Crimson stained the transparent surface of her mask. The man reeled away, stumbled. The box fell from his hands and plummeted to the ground. Right on his foot. The sickening crunch of bones. The creature whirled. It descended upon him in a dark, animal frenzy. Claws wrapped into the suit and yanked. Shredded to ribbons.

A hand pressed to his chest. He watched the black, web-like sludge coalesce around the arm within a split second, and then it was soaking into his shirt. He gasped. The cold wrapped around his heart.

The archaeological researcher toppled to the ground like a fallen log, the other man, with inhuman speed in consideration of his shattered foot, lunged for the airlock.

Outside the quarantine, a woman slammed her hand on the containment button.

But a new host gave it new energy.

Arms lifted, black slinging from it to wedge into the door and yank it open with crushing force.

Red lights strobed, a shrill alarm whined and cried into the din of panic.

The next, weaker set of doors gave way with little fuss. The monster tore down the hall. Blood and shattered lights and scattered bodies trailed behind it.

“The subject is out of containment! It has intent to kill! I repeat,

 _It has intent to kill!_ ”

* * *

Yugi shivered. After his caffeine crash, he'd fallen asleep in the library. He'd only planned on studying a little before the last bus.

He missed the bus.

Now, he had to walk home. He could have called a friend (Tristan or Tea, Joey too if he weren't working, would have dropped everything to come pick him up), but the thought of inconveniencing them made his chest tight with anxiety.

It wasn’t too bad. A little chilly. The shortcut to the apartment was… eerily quiet, though. Yugi palmed his cell phone in his pocket.

He glanced down an alley. He normally went that way… but…

He kept walking.

The roar of vehicles echoed off the towering brick walls. Three black vans rushed by. They had logos plastered on the side, but they were going too fast for Yugi to see. He blinked. They certainly seemed to be going faster than the speed limit. He shrugged. Whatever.

He crossed in front of another alleyway. Something crumpled and crashed, metal hit pavement, glass shattered. Yugi nearly jumped out of his skin. A groan, so throaty it seemed inhuman, echoed along the walls.

Wide purple eyes stared into the darkness. It was person. Whoever it was sounded injured.

He quickly, but carefully picked his way through the shadow-shrouded alley. A figure leaned heavily on the wall. A metallic smell, tangy and acrid, assailed Yugi's senses. The person's skin gleamed slick and dark.

Blood.

He gasped, rushed to the person's side.

The person was a man. His clothes were shredded and bloody. The remnants of a white rubber suit clung to his body.

“Are you okay?” Yugi asked, voice shaky and frantic.

A gurgling growl.

He surveyed the man's body. His foot was oozing blood, his leg bent at an unnatural angle. One bare forearm was shredded with glass and dripped red.

“Oh my god. You need to get to a hospital.” He went to touch the man's shoulder.

Suddenly, he was airborne, and just as suddenly collided with the wall. The air rushed from his lungs in a painful heave. He fell a short ways to the ground.

Coughing, groaning, he looked up.

Glowing red eyes and a sunken, bloody face flashed. They rushed toward him. A thick, cold hand wrapped around his throat.

The cold. It crawled through his veins like frigid vines.

Black feathered the edges of his vision.

_“Perfect.”_

Then there was emptiness.


	3. ... Can Hurt Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Public Service Announcement: I don't plan on there being any ships in this story. No pairing. Sans romance. However you want to put it. 
> 
> Also, I've been forgetting a disclaimer this whole time. 
> 
> I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! I do not make any profit from this fanfiction. Nor would I want to. However, I do claim rights to this plot. If any attempts to swipe this story are made, I will be on a head hunt, rest assured. This is my baby.
> 
> And, now that our PSA has concluded, let's move on to the story.

The heart monitor beeped steadily. The man on the bed rested fitfully. An ungainly cast marred his left arm. He was covered in bruises and scratches and bandages. A woman with a clipboard hesitated at the doorway.

“Come in,” his deep voice rumbled. It was raspy with sleep and heavy with morphine.

Her heels clicked.

The man opened a single eye to regard her.

“Patient Zero is destabilizing. His organs are failing one-by-one. I doubt he'll make it through the night,” she informed solemnly.

He grumbled slightly. “The other?”

She shook her head curtly. Her dangling earrings brushed her cheeks rhythmically. “He hasn't been found yet, sir.”

He sighed. His eyes were too heavy to keep open anymore.

“Also, your son is here to see you.”

“Which one?” Had he not been under the influence of heavy narcotics, the answer would have been obvious to him.

“The elder.”

“Send him in.”

She clicked away.

He blinked slowly. Minutes flowed into one another, and then blue eyes stared at him. Impassive, cold.

“What have you done?”

He blinked slowly. “You should have seen it, Seto. The raw power.”

“ _What did you do_?”

“He crumpled the containment doors like an empty can.”

“What the hell are you talking about, old man!”

He chuckled. “Just imagine it. What this means. We could revolutionize warfare. I was so concerned with the technology that I didn't even consider the biology.” He stared gravely. “I'm lucky I survived. The scientists weren't so lucky.”

Blue eyes screwed shut and long fingers clutched the bridge of a fine nose.

“I want him back. Find him, Seto. Find him at all costs.”

* * *

Yugi shook violently.

“Hey, Yug! Wake the hell up, man! You'll be late for work!”

The words pierced through him and he bolted up. White hot pain struck his nerves like cracking lightning. He inhaled sharply. It felt like he got crushed by a steamroller.

He stared, wide-eyes, into Joey's concerned amber gaze. “What time is it?”

“It's seven-thirty in the morning, Yug,” he replied.

Yugi scrambled out of bed. Which ended up becoming _falling_ out of bed; an agonizing cramp shot through his side, and he curled up at the wrong moment.

“Jesus!” Joey yelped when his roommate thumped to the floor. “What's going on with you?”

Yugi groaned and stumbled to his feet. He yanked his uniform off of the dresser and scrambled to the bathroom. He felt grimy and gritty; he definitely needed a shower. He didn't even let the water warm up. He lunged into the cold water with a gasp and hurriedly lathered himself down. Every movement ached sharply, and he screwed his eyes shut while he roughly scrubbed his hair.

What did he do to get so _sore_?

He wildly groped through his memories of the previous day.

What even _happened_ yesterday?

Dozing off in class. Going to the cafe with Ryou. Nearly dying from caffeine overload… Missing the bus…

Walking home…

Something was missing. He remembered starting the walk home, but not actually arriving at the apartment he and Joey shared. Something lurked in the shadows of his memories, but it eluded his grasp each time he reached for it.

Whatever. He could think more about it later.

Irritation curled up in his chest. Why didn't Joey wake him up sooner?

He rolled his eyes at himself while he hastily toweled off. Because Joey worked late last night. He probably just woke up himself. He threw on his uniform and slapped some deodorant on.

He globbed some toothpaste onto his toothbrush and hastily scrubbed. He fingered his wet blond bangs out of his face and stared at himself in the mirror. He gasped and reeled back. Toothpaste flew back into his throat, and he yanked his toothbrush out of his mouth to cough and wheeze. Pain wracked his ribs. He doubled over the sink, spat white foam into the basin. He grabbed the hand towel with clammy fingers to wipe himself off.

He cautiously look back up into the mirror.

His purple irises had an unsettling red tinge to them now. He doubted it was a visual effect from the irritated red veins webbed out over his sclerae. His cheeks were a bit more sunken, and it made visible the pointed bone structure underneath more than he thought possible. His normally rounded eyes seemed angular, stern, serious. He rubbed his cheek and watched the skin roll beneath his palm in the mirror.

Even if he looked like a completely different person, it was real.

He shook his head. He didn’t really understand what was going on, but it really didn’t matter. He needed to get to work. Immediately.

He finished brushing his teeth and wiped his mouth off as quickly as he could.

“Hey, Joey!” he called.

“Yeah?!” his voice echoed from the living room.

“Would you mind driving me to work?”

“No problem, bud! Long as you don’t mind me driving you in my PJs.” Apparently, his “PJs” were his clothes from the day before. Not that Yugi could say much. He woke up much the same way.

“Not an issue. Thanks bunches!” He rushed to the kitchen and plucked a bagel from its bag. He didn’t have the time to toast it, so he just shoved it into his mouth to hold onto it while he thrust his jacket on and shoved his wallet and keys into his pockets. “Hn hn!” The faint taste of bread on his tongue made his stomach rumble uproariously.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going, I’m going.”

Joey snatched his keys off the counter and they left.

Joey’s beat-up Mitsubishi smelled like old coffee. And dirty socks. But Yugi couldn't complain. Joey would drop everything to help him.

The car sputtered to life and Joey backed out of the lot. Yugi took a ferocious bite out of the bagel. He thrummed happily. It was yummy.

“The hell, Yug?” Joey muttered next to him.

Yugi looked over at his roommate, mouth filled with bread and dark eyebrows raised. “Hm?”

“You're fuck'n growling like a damn animal. You like the bagel that much?” Joey said teasingly.

Yugi's face flushed. He didn't… did he? He was just so tired and hungry and flustered that he didn't notice.

“Also, you look fuck'n exhausted.”

He swallowed what he had in his mouth. What he would do for some water… “What time did I get home last night?”

“You don't remember?” Joey sounded genuinely concerned.

“Honestly, I don't remember anything past missing the bus last night,” Yugi slowly admitted.

Joey's knee jerked. He barely resisted the urge to slam on the brakes. “Seriously?! Yugi!”

Yugi smiled sheepishly. “Guess I was really tired.”

“Well, yeah. You came stumbling in like some shambling zombie in the dead of the night.”

Yugi ripped another bite from the bagel. This time, he _felt_ the growl rumble in his throat. He stared at Joey with expectant eyebrows. “Time?”

“Hell, midnight. Maybe later,” Joey said quietly.

Yugi gazed out the window, at his own reflection spanned across the rushing buildings. Concern raged through him. Had he passed out from exhaustion and sleepwalked home? That would explain this miserable soreness, especially if he hit the ground hard. That dark memory lurked, flirted with his fingertips. Evasive. Some timid beast in a moon-dappled jungle. “Did I say anything?”

“No. You didn't even respond when I said hi. You just walked right to your room to sleep.” Joey glanced at his friend. “No more late-nighters, ‘kay, Yug?”

“Okay.”

* * *

Yugi did not like his job. That, however, had nothing to do with the tasks themselves and everything to do with the people he worked with. Weevil was rude and snide, Rex pompous and perverted, Keith arrogant and condescending. However, he normally found it to be a simple task to plaster a smile on his face and deal with their shenanigans. Today, not so much.

His eyelid twitched when Keith called him “midget” for the umpteenth time that day. Yugi smiled stiffly, grabbed the plates from the window, and with them balanced in his arms, marched back into the dining area. The muscles in his chest, back, and arms ached in protest to the weight.

With a smooth expertise, he slid the plates onto the table. “Biscuits and gravy and the Breakfast Express. Is there anything else you require?” He asked politely, gestured to the cups on the table. “Perhaps refills?”

The elderly man nodded, “Yes, young man, I'd like more coffee please.”

Yugi smiled. “Coming right up!”

The smell of the food didn't normally affect him so badly, but the aroma of sizzling bacon and steaming coffee stirred within him a ravenous hunger. Stomach clenching hollowly, he brought the coffee the old man requested. The man smiled at him in thanks.

Yugi smiled back. The good thing about being “as cute as a button” (as one old woman had put it) meant that he normally raked in the tips when it came to elderly people and girls.

He took another table's orders and marched up to the kitchen. He crowed the order and tacked it onto the wheel. He watched as Keith juggled several pans.

Okay, Keith might have had an awful personality, but at least he made some damn good omelets.

His eyes lingered on the raw bacon sitting in its package on the counter. It looked… really appetizing like that. Juicy, refreshing. He could just swallow it like that, right? It looked like it would just slide down his throat.

“Hey! Midget! Take the order off the damn window!” Keith shouted.

Yugi snapped back to attention. His cheeks flushed hot.

What… was he just thinking about?!

He snatched the plates up.

Eating… raw pork?! Trichinosis, anyone?! _Would you like some tapeworms with that, Yugi?!_ Just what he needed, a fricking parasite.

He shook his head roughly. It was just his hunger getting to him. He served the dishes.

“Are… are you okay?” a woman asked.

Yugi smiled brightly and nodded. “Yeah, I'm fine.”

She blinked at him. “You… you don't _look_ fine.”

He stared at her a moment. … _Rude._

But then the door opened with the trilling of the bell. A chilly draft of air wafted in, fanned across his face, and he shivered.

His face was slicked with sweat. “Uh, it appears that you are correct,” he murmured. His voice trembled in his throat.

She gently touched his hand, which was clutching, white-knuckled, around the edge of his try. “You should probably take a break, hon.”

He weakly thumbed over his shoulder. All of his energy drained away. He was so heavy, so… weak. “I have other tables.”

The woman shook her head. “Not if you pass out.”

He felt like he was blinking in slow motion. “I hope you enjoy your meal.” He turned. He all but stumbled to the back.

“Woah, Yugi. You look like you're about to blow chunks,” Rex blurted after Yugi stumbled face-first into him.

Yugi stuttered an apology and moved aside.

He was boiling. He could feel his shirt sticking to his back like a second skin.

The meat locker. The meat locker was cold.

“Hey!” Keith called. Yugi scrambled hard against the latch. His shaking hands couldn't grasp it properly. “Midget! What the hell are you doing!”

Yugi snapped back, snarling, eyes flashing, curled against the door.

“Woah! Okay, man.” Keith held his hands up. Keith held up his hands defensively.

The door finally opened, and Yugi stumbled into the gellid atmosphere of the meat locker. He collapsed back against the metal, and the door thunked closed. He sank down to the floor, sweating back pressed harshly into the freezing metal. The cold soothed the heat, but his limbs still shook with fever. All around, the metallic, tangy scent of raw meat clung to the air. His stomach ached, hollow.

He unsteadily drifted to his feet and brokenly ambled to the rows and rows of metal shelves. Red, marbled slabs of meat lined up on the racks.

So… fresh… bright red… the smell of blood… the _taste_ of blood… cold, cold in his mouth… in his stomach...

Metal clanged loudly. Someone banged on the door. “Yugi!” It was Keith. “Hey, midget, you okay in there?!”

Yugi jolted, head whipping to the door. He glanced down to his hands.

A raw, mangled steak was draped limply over his palms. Torn, shredded. The coppery taste lingered in his mouth.

Horrified, he dropped the meat. It fell to the metal floor with a wet _slap_. He stumbled back. His shoulders jarred into another shelf.

He’d been eating… the raw steak!

His stomach heaved, and he clapped a hand over his mouth. The raw juice of the steak was still slicking his palm, and it inundated his nostrils, though he didn’t dare take his hand away from his mouth.

The smell of blood and asphalt. Red eyes. Darkness.

“Yugi?!” The door began to creak open.

Yugi threw himself into it. It slammed closed again.

“I'm okay!” he all but squeaked. “I… just need to cool down a moment.”

Keith mumbled something. “Okay…”

Yugi rested his sweaty forehead on the door. Keith sounded concerned. Yugi might have to reevaluate his impression of the man.

He looked back down at the meat on the floor.

He had to get rid of it. But… how was he going to get it thrown away while Keith lingered outside the door?

His stomach roiled.

“ _No_ ,” he hissed, dismayed.

He picked it up, pinched between forefinger and thumb, refused to look at it for too long in fears of devouring it like some impulsive animal. He cracked the door open and peeked.

The scrapes of utensils on pans and the sizzling of eggs and bacon reached his ears. His breath left his lungs in a small huff. Keith was back to cooking. Yugi glanced back down at the mangled meat in his hand. He grimaced.

Only one thing to do.

He tucked it into his shirt.

He darted out of the meat locker, quickly slid the latch closed, and stumbled to the employee bathroom. He slammed the door behind him and turned the lock. He quickly yanked the steak out of his shirt. The cold, damp, sticky feeling remained.

He chucked it into the garbage, shuffled the can around until the flash of red was concealed by paper towels. He hastily approached the sink.

Faint red smeared across his lips, chin, and even his cheeks. He gasped, then gagged. He collapsed next to the toilet. His diaphragm heaved mightily, body clenched and arched. He retched, but nothing came up. Tears of exertion and terror trekked down his cheeks. He dug a finger into his mouth, down his throat, copper tinged his tongue. He gagged again, and he braced himself heavily on the toilet bowl.

Nothing but spittle dripped into the water.

He slumped back against the wall. Each panting breath was a trembling, raspy sob. He couldn't get it out. He knew raw beef wasn't altogether too dangerous, _but he wanted it out_.

A soft rapping of knuckles upon the door broke the silence. “Hey, midget, when you're… y'know, _done_ , you should probably head home. I'll kick your scrawny ass if you got me sick.”

“O-Ok-kay,” Yugi whimpered.

Footsteps trailed away from the door.

Yugi rose up on shaking, gelatinous legs and flushed the toilet. Foamy saliva swirled down the drain.

He washed his hands, his face, his stomach, even cupped water up to his mouth to swish and spit. But the _smell,_ the _taste_ remained.

He stepped out of the bathroom and trudged to his locker. Just his wallet and phone sat inside. His hands shook so badly he nearly dropped his phone. He dialed a number quick.

“Hey, Joey. Can… can you come pick me up from work?”

“ _Ugh_. Yeah, I guess. What happened?” Joey's voice slurred groggily.

“I, uh, I g-got sick at work.”

“ _Oh_. Yeah, I'll be there in a jiffy. Hang on, okay, Yug?”

“O-Okay.”

_Click_

Weevil was leaning against the door jamb. “I'm taking your tips if I take over your tables.”

“Okay.” He forehead thunked onto the locker.

What the hell was happening?

* * *

He watched the surveillance tapes. He saw… that _thing_ that came out of the box. He wasn't sure if he was thankful for the audio, as he was deeply disturbed by it.

_“This host is dying.”_

_“You're killing me.”_

The swift and bloody escape. The unstoppable, raw power.

He watched his adoptive father get flung aside like a ragdoll.

“Gozaburo… what have you done…” he hissed, clutching the brown hair that hung over his forehead.

This… _thing_ could not fall back into Gozaburo’s hands, much less be allowed to roam amongst the unsuspecting public. With a resolute frown, he clicked several icons on his laptop. Surely the several dozen cameras secretly installed in a two-mile bubble around KaibaCorp would have spotted it.

Even if he had to watch every last feed, he would find it.

 _“At all costs…”_ Seto echoed. “I will find him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Yugi. :( too bad he's so easy to torture. Hmmm… now I'm sounding like a Yu-Gi-Oh villain. Wait a moment…
> 
> Anyway, HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS CHAPTER. :D
> 
> I'll see ya next time!


	4. Darkness Ascending

The heat was oppressive. It quashed even sound; the desert was quiet as death. The wind slithered over the dunes in silence. Field Team Alpha watched from their tents as grains of sand ribboned out in the gusts. The nights were cold as the grave.

The team head, in all his sandy, gritty glory, flopped the satellite phone to the side. “HQ isn't responding. Doctor Nelson isn't responding.” He rubbed his face. It was too hot for him to even sweat. “We are stranded in this godforsaken desert.”

They'd been working longer than Doctor Nelson and Field Team Beta, but hadn't found anything. News of a breakthrough from FTB had reinvigorated them for some time; they weren't on a wild goose chase, and the legends were true. Why _wouldn't_ they find something? they had thought at the time.

They realized now the reasons were numerous. The landscape of three thousand years ago was, of course, _much_ different than modern times, especially in a place where the harsh whipping sand eroded rock at an alarming rate.

Fortunately, they'd found rudimentary, but astoundingly accurate, starmaps. The time of the year had become just right; at night, they could look up at the twinkling sky and compare the map to it side-by-side.

So they _should_ be close.

But… they found nothing. And now they'd lost contact with both KaibaCorp and Doctor Nelson, formerly of Field Team Beta. He was the best hieroglyphics translator the world had to offer, and now all they heard from him was static.

The team head sighed, adjusted his long, dark hair. Three thousand years was a long time to wait to find something purposefully lost. He tapped his flask on his knee.

All they could do now was dig and hope for the best.

That night, it was as if Lady Luck and all the ancient Egyptian gods combined smiled upon the team.

The _vault_ , as Doctor Nelson came to call them, was nestled amongst a outcropping of ragged sandstone. It was so very far away from the Nile.

The team head surmised it to be some sort of ritual banishment.

The carvings decorating the walls were hardly refined in comparison to photos of the other vault. The images were dark, and not just in color. Horrific beasts crawled along the walls.

The team head felt a shiver go down his spine.

“Doctor Bakura!” another researcher called. “We've found something!”

The team head adjusted his glasses with one dirty finger. His breath huffed against his face mask. “Yes? What is it?”

He approached the huddle of his team mates. There was a small alcove. Upon the shelf inside, surrounded by what seemed to be a puddle of oil, was a golden ring. It was huge, easily seven inches in diameter. The actual metal tubing about two inches in diameter. Five cones of pure gold dangled from the belly. A triangle of gold sat on the top, firmly attached at all three vertices.

Doctor Bakura eyed the puddle suspiciously. “Be careful. I think it's booby trapped.”

“Think it's supposed to catch fire?”

“Yes.”

It took them a few more hours. The sun was breaching the horizon, lightened the sky from a dark, blackish navy to violets and reds. It would only be an hour before the desert was once again set ablaze with ungodly heat. The mechanism that once created a spark to set alight the oil, they had eventually found, was no longer operational. Still, they handled the situation with paranoid delicacy.

Before long, Doctor Bakura held the ring in gloved hands. It was arm-achingly heavy. Slowly, gingerly, he inspected it. His arms brushed one of the dangling cones. One-by-one, the fives cones knocked together.

The ring clicked. Pressurized air hissed.

Doctor Bakura yelped and dropped the ring onto the stone floor of the vault. He reeled back a step. Several sections of the outer ring expanded and withdrew, sliding over one another with amazing smoothness and technicality.

The ring was hollow.

Black sludge oozed out. It pooled around Doctor Bakura's boots. He knelt down and touched it. Even through the rubber glove, he could feel how damnably cold and damp the substance was. It clung to his finger, somehow both fibrous and liquid. He grimaced. It isn't oil.

Suddenly, it lashed out. Black tendrils wrapped around his hand with the threat of crushing force. He yelped again. It climbed up to his wrist and touched his bare skin. The black soaked into his flesh. He screamed, but the sludge disappeared as if it were never there in the first place.

He swayed on his feet. Black gnawed at the corners of his eyes. He heard dark, maniacal cackling.

Right before he went unconscious, he realized the laughter was his.

* * *

Yugi laid miserably on the floor of his room. The bed was too warm; the blankets even being just beneath him made him sweat profusely, even after he stripped himself down to his boxers. The carpet wasn't altogether too bad, if he periodically shifted to cooler spots.

The ice pack didn't help at all. Faced with his elevated body temperature, it melted quickly.

Joey had made him chicken soup at one point. It was unpleasantly hot, but he greedily devoured it, anyways.

Just the thought of food made his stomach rumble like an approaching supercell storm. Yugi crawled to the door and opened it. On his knees, he peeked down the hallway. The babbling of some D-grade sci-fi movie and Joey’s loud snoring echoed down the short hallway. Yugi’s palm touched the cool laminate flooring. He hummed brokenly and pressed his cheek to it.

His stomach rumbled.

He crawled into the hallway. Every couple of shuffles, he would press himself to the floor. His skin was so sweaty and hot, it fogged up the laminate. Eventually, he made it to the living room. Joey was sprawled on the couch, one leg over the armrest, the other dangling over the cushion to touch the floor. His mouth was wide open. A little bit of saliva slipped out of the corner of his mouth. A low-quality CGI monster chased women in bikinis on the television. Yugi slunk into the kitchen.

A hand of bananas sat on the counter (bananas that Yugi’s grandfather had bought them, since the two young men were far too frugal). Yugi reached up and ripped one off.

He bit into it, peel and all. Within a minute, his hands were empty.

His stomach rumbled.

He crawled to the refrigerator. He yanked it open. He growled when the cool draft wafted around him. The rest of the soup Joey had made was in a small circular container on the middle shelf. Yugi snatched it and popped the lid off. He lifted it to his lips and gulped it down. Soup spilled over and trickled down the corner of his mouth.

The container empty, Yugi casted it to the side.

Cupcakes Tea had made. A dozen chocolate, icing-topped treats. Yugi ate them all. The little foil cups sat in a pile next to him. Leftover casserole. Yugi ate it all. A brick of cream cheese. Yugi ate it. A bag of taco cheese. Yugi ate it.

Before long, the fridge was all but barren.

The door swung shut. Yugi leaned back against the wall. He sighed and relaxed a bit. He felt less hot now. His stomach stopped aching for once.

He really liked cream cheese. He needed to get more of it. Like, a dozen or so bricks of it.

He hummed and stood to clean up his mess. The reality of the situation sat at the back of his mind, purposely avoided. He grabbed a change of clothes from his room and relegated himself to a shower to wash away the sweat of his fever. He let the water remain lukewarm, let the chill ease away the last of the unhealthy warmth. The water pounded loudly in the close of the shower. Wet splashes against tile echoed through the bathroom. Yet still, he heard,

_“Yugi.”_

He jumped, yelping, embarrassingly high-pitched and effeminate. He tugged the curtain aside to look into the bathroom.

“Joey…?” he called, voice cracking. There was no answer. Suddenly cold and shivering, Yugi fumbled with the faucet to turn up the heat. Does he have the flu? Can that cause hallucinations?

He gulped, arms wrapped tight around his trembling torso.

He was just hearing things. When he still lived with his grandpa, it would happen all the time, thinking that the old man had been calling his name from downstairs. Maybe it was because he was too on-edge and stressed out.

He took a deep breath and rubbed his face tiredly.

He had promised his grandpa that he would visit after he got out of work. Work was nixed, so…

He was feeling better. He could go now.

Within the next half hour, he was tugging his jacket on. Joey was still sprawled out, asleep, on the couch. Yugi gently shook his shoulder. “Joey.”

“Uhhhuah, wut?” he mumbled, and swatted Yugi's hand away.

“I'm going to see my grandfather, okay?”

“Thought… thought you sick, Yug’?” Joey said with a sleepy sigh. His eyes barely opened before they drooped shut.

“I ate and now I'm feeling a lot better. So, don't worry about me. I'm taking the subway.”

“Uh, okay. Just be careful. A lot of scum hangs out around the station. Trust me, I know,” he said before he shifted onto his side and yanked the blanket off the back of the couch.

“I know you know,” Yugi replied softly. Not so long ago, Joey was once one of those “scum.” “And you know me, I'm always careful.”

“Careful, my ass. You'll die from trippin’ and fallin’.”

“Okay, _that's_ an exaggeration.”

“Whatever. See ya.” Joey shifted around a little bit and dozed off.

“See ya…” Yugi echoed.

He moved to the door and left.

* * *

It took a dozen different feeds to track it.

It jumped from a thirteenth story window and onto a rooftop fifty feet below. The cameras, state-of-the-art, showed in high resolution the creature’s compound fracture, the red-stained bone jutting from shredded flesh and torn rubber. Still, it continued on, and it lunged from rooftop to rooftop for six blocks. Steadily, it weakened. Its loping decreased in speed and became more broken and shambling.

It hurtled over an alleyway, only to crash into a wall and collapse to the asphalt below.

Seto Kaiba switched cameras again.

It rested on the scattered trash for the barest second before it shakily stood up. The damage to the host was extensive, lethal if he did not receive immediate treatment.

At the other end of the alley, a silhouette appeared. A human. A young man. Kaiba’s hand clenched on the mouse. A familiar young man. The young man cautiously picked his way through the alleyway. Kaiba’s teeth ground together as the infrared captured the face of the parasite’s next unwitting victim. The boy’s face was concerned, then it warped into horror.

The beast lashed out, a black flurry. The tiny young man went flying into the wall on the other side of the alleyway. He fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes. The beast rushed upon him and lifted him by the throat. The black undulated around the wrist, slithered down the fingers, and dissipated into the boy’s skin.

The former host dropped, keeled over to the side, discarded.

The boy rolled his shoulders beastially. His head twitched this way and that, bright bangs swaying and jerking. He stalked from the alleyway.

Kaiba slammed his laptop closed. One hand covered his face, his knuckles white.

Yugi Muto.

Seto had gone to _high school_ with _Yugi Muto!_ He’d recognize that wild hair anywhere.

He gritted his teeth.

* * *

Yugi waited patiently for the subway, his hands tucked into the pockets of his dark jeans. His nose twitched, and he tried to breathe through slightly parted lips. Ugh, the stench down here was horrible today.

A crush of people also stood in waiting for the subterrestrial train. The shift of shoes on tile and stale, hot breaths in the close made his ears twinge. He shifted, suddenly aware of the sickly fluorescent lighting and the brush of his clothes on his skin.

He rubbed his forehead and sighed lightly through his mouth. Deep within the tunnel, the rumble and scream of the train echoed. It slowed and rattled and glided into the station.

People clustered out, people rushed in. Yugi managed to worm his way through, and, once inside, he was torn between sitting in a corner or standing away from everyone else. The sheer amount of humans inside the little metal tube made the decision for him; he stood near a door, wedged between innumerable people.

He gritted his teeth. With his short stature, he couldn’t simply turn his head away from the people pressing in on all sides, away from the overwhelming scent, and the occasional _stench_ , of his fellow citizens. He remained mindful of the weight of his phone and wallet in his pockets. It wouldn’t be the first time he got pickpocketed on the subway.

At the next stop, the exchange of people occurred again. Yugi scrambled to take the short amount of time to find a better position. He found a seat by a window. When they surged into motion once again, the sickly lights of the subway tunnel streaked by feverishly in the glass. It made Yugi dizzy, so he looked out to all the people in the car.

On their phones, staring into space, living their lives.

He’d never felt so disconnected from the rest of the world.

“ _Yugi!”_ the forceful murmur pierced through his consciousness.

He gasped, whipped to the window.

A black monster, eyes red, teeth long and jagged, stared back.

He yelped and threw himself back, over the seat next to him and onto the floor.

His chest heaved with fright, and all the other commuters stared blankly, worriedly at him. He forced a sheepish smile and rubbed the back of his neck as he shakily stood back up. “Sorry…” His purple eyes blinked back from his reflection. He still wasn’t looking like himself… but at least he wasn’t seeing things at the moment.

 _Hearing things_.

_Seeing things._

“I’m going crazy,” he mumbled to himself.

It was the perfect time to mentally crack. At least midterms were done already.

When they stopped again, Yugi hurried off. He eagerly left the station and climbed up the stairs. The cool fall air wafted down and helped brush some of the stale odor of the tunnels away. His phone buzzed in his pocket.

**1 Missed Call: Grandpa (Sugoroku Muto)**

He sighed. Grandpa tried to call him while he was in the cellular abyss of Domino City’s subway system. He called back.

_Ri-_

“Yugi?” The old man immediately picked up.

“Hi, Grandpa.”

“You didn’t answer my call.” Sugoroku’s voice was raspy, but still surprisingly strong for his age. Now, it held a tone of playful sternness.

“I was in the subway, Grandpa. There isn’t any cell service down there.”

“Does that mean you’re going to be visiting me?”

“Yes, Grandpa.”

“I was going to tell you to stay home. Joey called and told me that you were sick.”

“I’m feeling better now,” Yugi insisted. Physically, _yes_ , he was feeling much better. Psychologically…? Not so much. “And when did Joey call you?”

“Earlier this morning.” Joey could be surprisingly thoughtful in spite of his forgetfulness.  “I didn’t call you right away because I figured you needed to get your rest.”

“You could’ve called me. I didn’t end up getting any sleep.” But he _did_ manage to eat an alarming amount of food, so… at least he was a little productive…?

“That’s not good.”

“Well, I’m gonna hang up, Grandpa. I don’t like talking on the phone and walking. Especially in _this_ city. I’ll see you in a few minutes, okay?”

“Okay, Yugi. Be careful.”

* * *

The others were resting, hidden in their tents and away from the scorching sun, when Doctor Bakura finally emerged from the vault. His assistant watched with furrowed brows as the doctor extended his arms and basked in the sun. His unsettling laughter floated like the heatwaves over the dunes.

“Where’s the ring?” the assistant asked.

A smirk, sharp and wide, uncharacteristic for the soft-spoken archeologist, split his face. “That piece of trash? I left it in that forsaken hole.”

“What?” the assistant wearily asked. He wondered if the heat was finally going to someone’s head. His, or Doctor Bakura’s, he wasn’t sure.

“I’m… _hungry_ now.”

“Then eat. Not too much, though. You know we’re getting low on provisions.”

A low, rumbling chuckle purred in Doctor Bakura’s throat. “Oh, don’t worry...

“... I won’t be needing _those._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I just wanted to address something real quick. As you’ve noticed, I’ve used the English names for most of the characters, except for Yugi’s grandfather. It just doesn’t make sense to me that he would have an English name at all. Ever. Yugi Muto is a Japanese name. In most cultures, including Japanese culture, the family name is inherited from the father, who inherited it from his father. We know that Sugoroku is Yugi’s paternal grandfather. So he inherited “Muto” from Sugoroku (duh, but yeah). The likelihood of a Japanese (or, Japanese-American, in this case) person of Sugoroku’s age having a Japanese family name but not a Japanese given name is fairly low. Especially factoring in the fact that Yugi’s given name is Japanese; they obviously, as a family, retained some of their Japanese culture. Point made…? For the most part…? 
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed the story so far! It’s probably moving a little slower than you guys want, but I promise we are going to get into some nice action sequences in the upcoming chapters!


	5. No Rest for the Wicked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seto has no idea what he's getting into. Yugi has no idea just what he's gotten into, either. Joey's just upset he didn't get any cupcakes. No Yami Bakura this chapter, though.

When Yugi got to the game shop, the door was unlocked, though the sign was flipped to “closed.” He sighed through his nose and gently closed the door behind him. The tinkle of the bell made his lip twitch up with nostalgic pleasure.

“Grandpa! I’m here!” he called. He locked the door and walked behind the counter, to the threshold of the living space contained behind the shop. He heard the warble of Sugoroku’s old radio.

“In the living room, Yugi!”

Yugi toed off his browned, peeling sneakers.

“Shoes!” the old man chimed in sing-song Japanese.

Yugi laughed. “I know, Grandpa.”

“Just making sure you didn’t forget, living the college life and all that. Have you been eating well? Did you and Joey enjoy those bananas?”

Yugi stepped into the living room. The short old man was slightly reclined back into a chair, though propped up enough to comfortably read one of those huge educational books he liked so much. Yugi paused a moment. “Yeah, I’ve been eating fine. And the bananas were pretty good.” At least the one that he ate was. Peel and all. He settled onto the couch, fell right into an old divot. He patted the sofa’s arm as if it were a long-time friend. In a way, it was. “How’s your back?”

“Still hurts. The doctor says that I still can’t do any heavy lifting. But Tristan’s been stopping by to help me with the new shipments.”

Yugi smiled and picked at a tuft of lint on his pants. The fact that all of his friends treated his grandpa as if he were _their grandpa_ … “I’m glad. It upsets me that I can’t be here to help you like I used to.”

Sugoroku lowered his book, looked over the edge of his glasses. Those purple eyes were the same ones that Yugi saw in the mirror every morning. “Your education is more important than moving boxes for some old fart.” His eyes narrowed.

A snort left Yugi to hide his gulp, and he sarcastically swung his head to face his grandpa, his eyebrows cocked. “You’re not just ‘some old fart’ to me, Grandpa.”

The book closed with a solid, dry _thump_. Leathered hands set it on the side table, and fingers with knotted joints plucked the wire-rimmed spectacles from Sugoroku’s square face. “You’ve lost quite a bit of your baby fat since I saw you last. Going through a growth spurt, eh? Every day, you are looking more like your father, Yugi.”

Yugi nodded, more in self-confirmation than in response to what his grandfather was saying. Of course the old man would notice his changes in appearance. Nothing ever escaped his keen gaze. “My father looked like you, Grandpa.” Though Yugi couldn’t pluck his father’s face from his own memories. Only old pictures his mother had kept.

“Handsome man, he was,” Sugoroku said with a gut-deep laugh. Yugi laughed with him, sank further back into the cushions. The tension drained from him, trickled out from his fingers and toes. He’d needed this.

Before he knew it, he was blinking heavily, breaths deepening and warming. The weight of cloth dropped over him, and he was adrift.

* * *

A red glow hovered close. Two oblong shapes, floating. Eyes. Eyes were staring into him.

“Yugi.”

Jagged angler-fish-like teeth gaped apart, dropped close together, shaping the syllables of his name in such a gruesome, alien manner. “Yugi.”

“ _Yugi!”_

He gasped and pitched forward. The blanket that had covered his chest fell about his lap and waist. A hand was on his shoulder. His eyes shot up.

“Grandpa,” he gasped.

The old man blinked down at him, owlish and worried. “Bad dream?”

Yugi slumped back and nodded. He brushed a hand across his forehead. It was slick with sweat.

Sugoroku patted his head. “I was about to wake you anyway. It will be dark soon. You should probably head back.”

Yugi struggled to get out of the divot in the couch. When he was standing, He languidly stretched and glanced at the clock on the wall. “Why did you let me sleep the whole time?”

“You looked tired. You were sick earlier. You obviously needed the rest.”

Yugi sighed out of his nose and rubbed his eyes again. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I am.”

The pair chatted as Sugoroku walked his grandson to the door. Yugi slipped on his shoes.

“Those must be getting tight.”

“Huh?” Yugi blinked up at his grandfather.

“Your shoes. You’ve had them since high school. I’m guessing they must be getting tight,” Sugoroku explained.

Yugi wiggled his toes around. “A little, yeah.”

“Next time you visit, we can go out to get you new shoes.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

They embraced one another.

“I missed you,” Yugi said quietly. For once, he could actually set his chin on his grandfather’s shoulder. He _actually_ must have grown since his visit the week before.

“I missed you, too, Yugi. Take care and call me when you get back home.”

“Will do!” Waving over his shoulder and smiling warmly, Yugi walked down the sidewalk.

His phone began ringing.

**Joey (Joseph Wheeler)**

He quickly answered it and lifted it up to his ear. “Hey--”

“What the _actual_ fuck, Yug’!” Joey hollered.

Yugi flinched and gingerly held the phone away from his ear until he could no longer hear his best friend’s bombastic shouting. He cautiously brought it back to his ear. “What?”

Joey growled on the other end. The sound crackled over the speaker. “You ate _all_ of the cupcakes. I didn’t get a single one, ya bastard!”

Yugi grimaced. “Sorry. When I… got over my fever I got really hungry.”

“Jesus, you don’t say?! We haven’t got any food anymore!”

“Sorry,” Yugi repeated, not sure what else he could say. He really did feel sorry, but a distinct part of him felt… _smug_. _My cupcakes_.

The sound of shuffling and the cacophony of the bottom of the trashcan hitting the floor echoed over the receiver. “Also, did you eat this whole fuckin’ brick of cream cheese?”

Yugi stayed silent.

“Oh my god, you’re such a weirdo, Yug’. If I knew you were this weird to live with, I never would have moved in with you,” Joey mumbled.

Yugi’s dark brows furrowed. “Excuse me?” They’d been living together for almost two years now, and Joey decided to complain _now_.

“I’m just kiddin’, Yug’. I know you haven’t been feelin’ well.” Joey sighed. “At least I’m not the one eating us out of house and home for once.”

Yugi chuckled sheepishly. “Yeah, something new, huh? Anyway, I’m on my way back.”

Joey said, suddenly serious, “Do you need a ride?”

“No, you’ve driven me around enough today. I can manage the subway.”

“Be careful, Yugi.”

“I will. See ya in a few.”

“See ya.”

Before long, he was descending into the subway tunnel. Luckily for him, he made it just in time to get the right train out. It was much less crowded at this time of the evening, so he took a seat in the corner again. He avoided staring at the glass, and he fought off the exhaustion still teasing his eyelids. Either could conjure that haunting stare.

The back of his neck prickled, and he sat upright. He looked around. A handful of people shared the car with him. A businessman. A couple of teenagers. A man in the corner. The back of his neck prickled again. The man met his gaze.

_“Don’t look!”_

He jolted, eyes zipping down to his hands on his knees and blinking widely. “What the hell…” he muttered.

_“He’s following us.”_

He slapped a hand to his forehead. Good grief, now his subconscious was no longer subconscious and it was speaking _plurally_. “I need a psych evaluation.” He shrugged the thoughts off. He was just tired, and now apparently paranoid.

They rattled to a halt.

_“We need to leave.”_

He gritted his teeth. It wasn’t his stop yet. No way he was getting off the damn train.

“ ** _Now._** ”

His body flashed cold, and suddenly surged up from his seat. He whipped a hand out, gripped the back of the seat next to him. Okay, he did _not_ tell his body to do that.

_“Now, Yugi!”_

Shaking with terror and adrenaline, he stumbled off the subway train. He stood, dazed inside the terminal. Another pulse of cold, and his legs were moving of their own accord again. The back of his neck prickled, and he hurried to the surface. The breeze wafted around him, and he breathed gratefully.

Yugi felt like he’d had enough of tunnels and caves.

The thought made his brow furrow. What the hell?

_“Keep moving.”_

That eerie prickle.

_“Don’t look.”_

“He’s still following us,” Yugi muttered in self-confirmation. He bit his lip at his own choice in words. _Us. Us?!_

_“Our small body makes us an easy target for thugs.”_

Yugi’s brows wrinkled in offense. Okay, he didn’t have a lot of self-esteem already, so that was a bit of a low blow from his subconscious.

That brief wave of cold washed over him again, and his body moved with jerking strides into an alleyway.

Yugi wondered briefly if this was what it was like to “act on instinct.” (Even though the sensations felt more detached than even that.)

He didn't have long to wonder. Footsteps echoed behind him in the darkening alleyway. He sped up, even though a brick wall greeted him on the other end.

Fucking hell. Did he just corner himself? If he was acting on instinct, his instincts were total shit. Also, it felt like his instincts were a bit offended by the sentiment. Weird.

“You made this rather easy for me. My prey doesn't normally walk itself like a lamb to the slaughter,” the man rasped. “I don't normally stalk my prey like this… but you seem pretty distracted.”

Yugi's haunches tensed. His heart pounded in the strangest of ways. Instead of going faster, it seemed to _expand_ with each beat, as if it were taking a deep breath like a set of lungs. His blood pumped through him in hot, dizzying pulses. The images before him swam and throbbed with greater intensity.

He turned. “I don't want any trouble.” The barrel of a gun brushed against his forehead. The cold metal made his eyes widen.

“Then give me your wallet, shrimp. Phone, too, if you have one.”

This was too real to be a dream. At the same time, he felt no fear, no terror.

“You won't shoot me,” he said, voice deepened by its firmness.

The man sneered at him. “What makes you say that?”

“If you fire the gun, everyone around us will hear. This way be a rougher neighborhood, but a gunshot will not go unnoticed. Someone _will_ call the police. And, as far as I can tell, you are also trapped in this alley. There is only one way out.” Yugi felt a smirk curl his lips. “And you’d rather have a mugging on your hands than a murder.”

Brows furrowed. Yugi saw muscles tense and ripple, and then he was moving. The force of the man’s swinging wrist resonated up Yugi’s arm; he’d caught the man’s wrist as he was about to strike him with the butt of the gun. Partially gripping the man’s hand, Yugi _squeezed_. The man yelped, and the gun slipped from his weakening grasp and clattered metallically to the asphalt.

 _“That was a bad idea,”_ Yugi heard himself drawl, and the foreign sonorous tone of his voice rumbled in his chest. He chuckled, dark and sinister. He squeezed again, felt the wrist bones in grasp grit and grind together. Just a twitch, and Yugi could fracture all the bones in this man’s weak body.

The man gasped and whined in pain. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

_“Sorry is not enough.”_

Cold engulfed Yugi’s body, seeped from his face.

Dark eyes widened and flashed, and a scream of terror tore haltingly from the man’s throat.

A roar ripped from deep within Yugi’s chest, and somewhere above them, a fire escape ladder rattled loudly. He suddenly realized he was towering over his assailant, curled threateningly over the mugger’s body. The man’s eyes rolled back, but Yugi’s hand, black and clawed and _huge,_ gripped at the collar of the man’s shirt and shook.

 _“Listen to me. Perhaps in your next life you shall think twice before deciding to prey upon those weaker than you,”_ Yugi rumbled.

He felt his jaw stretch, and he surged forward. The sickening cracking of bones and the ripping of flesh stained the air. The tang of blood blossomed crimson and hot.

When Yugi's chest finally rumbled with a sated purr, he rolled his shoulders up to his full height. The gun glinted from where it had landed on the ground. Metal screeched and cracked. An immense foot crushed it. Yugi’s foot.

A quiet shuffle on the other end of the alleyway caught his attention. A silhouette.

It took but the smallest leap for Yugi to reach a fire escape and scale up it. He disappeared into the glow and shadows of the city night.

* * *

Seto Kaiba cautiously stepped farther into the dark of the alley, his gun held at the ready at his side. The city surveillance cameras showed Yugi going into this exact place (it’d taken some half-hearted hacking on Kaiba’s part to access them. A couple of facial recognition algorithms and Kaiba was tracking his former classmate through the streets and subway systems of Domino City).

Kaiba hovered close to the wall on one side.

A dark shape lingered, hunched over at the other end, a dead end. It stood up to its full height.

 _Jesus Christ. It’s massive_.

In his distraction, his foot slipped on a stray piece of cardboard box.

The head snapped over. Two oblong, angular eyes glowed red in the dark.

Kaiba’s breath froze in his chest. _Fuck_.

A ripple of force, and it was airborne. With grace and speed uncommon for a being of that size, it scaled a nearby fire escape like a spider monkey. Metal rattled, and then it was on the rooftop.

Gone in a blink of an eye.

He tapped a nervous finger on the side of his gun before holstering it, hidden beneath his trench coat. He’d have to have reinforcements. It’d somehow gained strength since escaping the lab. It could take on a form of its own, now.

But why? Why the sudden surge in power and energy?

Kaiba edged farther into the darkness. And then he smelt it.

Blood. The wave of copper stench slammed into him with the force of a bulldozer. The overwhelming _miasma_ triggered his gag reflex, and he hurriedly lifted the collar of his shirt over his nose. It barely helped; his gut churned tumultuously. “Dear god,” he choked.

It was too dark to see, and he was afraid to look.

Still, he fumbled for his phone and activated the flashlight function.

He staggered back against the wall.

A corpse. The head was missing, as well as large chunks of torso. Shredded flesh and pooling blood. So much carnage.

Saliva slicked his mouth, and sweat beaded his forehead, all signs of prospective regurgitation, but he stayed to survey the scene further.

He'd failed. An innocent bystander had already fallen victim to the creature.

He spotted crushed and crumpled metal. A gun, utterly destroyed.

Okay, maybe not innocent. Since Kaiba seriously doubted that Yugi was armed, it had to have been… this person's firearm.

At the lab, it attacked when it felt its life was in danger.

_“You're killing me.”_

Did this man try to… mug Yugi?

It didn't seem to care about the state of its previous hosts. Why would it care if Yugi was harmed? If this man killed Yugi, it could just as easily hop to the mugger as the replacement.

_“This host is inadequate.”_

Kaiba turned away, clicked off the flashlight function.

The first host had been wasting away; the parasite's metabolic needs sapped his vitality.

Kaiba's fist clenched. It needed the perfect metabolic match.

Who knew when it could find another so suitable to its needs. A perfect host was a resource to be protected at all costs.

He didn't know if he could save Yugi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little shorter chapter. Sorry. Still figuring out some of the trickier aspects of the plot. 
> 
> ALSO, the promised removal of a human head via biting!


	6. The Devil Inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Make me believe I’m human...  
> Make me believe I’m not the voice in my mind...  
> I don’t believe all the wrong I’ve done is forgiven…”  
> \- The Devil Inside, Like A Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pardon the OC Toby. He’s just going to be present for this chapter and the purposes it serves. Also, I had to make up a given name for Doctor Bakura. Since he does not have one in canon. (He’s also not a doctor in canon, but SCREW THE RULES, I’M A FANFICTION AUTHOR)

Toby squeezed the phone between his ear and shoulder. His hands were occupied with furious typing. The ringtone on the other end trilled ceaselessly. He rolled his eyes. Things were just becoming functional again on this end, but… it seems as though things were still not going well for Field Team Alpha. Or not. It was hard to tell when they weren’t answering their damn satellite phone.

Toby finished the sentence on the email and slammed the phone down into its cradle. He lifted it up immediately and dialed.

The process repeated for forty-five minutes.

 _Someone_ had to be at the campsite, or at least in earshot of the damn satellite phone.

Finally -- “ _What?_ ”

“Hello, is this Doctor Reiji Bakura?” Toby asked, exasperated already. Whoever was on the other end seemed to be in a _peachy_ mood.

A pause. “Yes.”

“Well, this is Toby Purthing from Project Management,” Toby explained. “I’m sorry to inform you, but the funding for your expedition has been retracted. Headquarters wants you and your team in Cairo and on the next flight back to Domino by the end of next week.”

“Really?”

Toby furrowed his brows. That wasn’t quite the reaction he was expecting. “Yes. After a… complication with Field Team Beta’s subject, Seto Kaiba recalled your team. Of course, Gozaburo Kaiba tried to reverse the decision, but he has been classified as functionally incapacitated.”

“Complication?”

Toby shrugged a shoulder. “Let’s just say the jack-in-the-box wasn’t quite what we expected.”

A pause on the other end.

“Doctor Bakura?”

A hum. “I’ll return in the allotted time.”

“You and the rest of the team will still be compensated in full for your time--”

“The rest of the team is gone.”

“What-”

A hollow tone cut him off. Doctor Reiji Bakura had hung up.

Toby frowned. Things definitely went south for Field Team Beta. Toby opened an email and began typing.

**To: Seto Kaiba**

**Subject: Field Team Alpha (Complications?)**

* * *

The wind tore by. Power surged through his veins in heady, cold waves. Across rooftops in mere seconds, before bounding onto others.

He was an apex predator in a jungle of concrete.

He launched himself from one building. The next one over was too tall to simply jump to its top. He slammed into the brick, huge clawed fingers sinking into the surface with brute force. He loped up the wall, leaving punctured and crumbling brick in his wake.

Up, up, up. The sky was the limit.

He landed crouched upon the roof, and he slunk over to perch on the raised edge of the building. He stared out over the city, bright as a star even in the dark of night.

What a strange new world. It had changed much in his absence.

He felt the fluttering under the surface. His host was trying to break back through. For such a small, weak human, Yugi had the determination to rival an army.

The beast receded.

* * *

When Yugi could finally control his own body again, he nearly fell to his death. He scrambled against the hard ledge of the rooftop, and just barely managed to throw himself back onto his ass. He panted hard, heart fluttering in his chest like a frightened bird.

“Ohmygod--” he gasped, hand over his mouth. “I just bit a dude’s head off.”

But it wasn’t him.

Red eyes flashed in his memory. Cold surged at his shoulder, and he nearly shrieked. A black, undulating form extended from his body. At the end, a rounded, oblong head hovered. A webby crown of tentacles wavered about, and red, pupil-less opaque eyes stared unblinking. An off-yellow symbol of an eye glowed faintly from the center of its watery forehead. Rows and rows of jagged teeth grinned at him.

 _“Hello, Yugi.”_ The alien motion of teeth and lips and tongue.

Black feathered the edge of Yugi’s vision, and he could feel his eyes rolling back when a sharp flash of cold jolted through him.

_“I shall have none of that now.”_

“You… you _murdered_ that man!” Yugi whispered.

 _“He was but a blemish on the face of society. He deserved to be exterminated.”_ The angular red eyes narrowed and the paper-thin lips curled away into a snarl.

“That’s not for you to decide,” Yugi hissed. “You are _not_ the judge, _not_ the jury, and _not_ the executioner!” The hovering head recoiled that those words. “We have a _system_ for that.”

 _“Your_ system _clearly failed,”_ it rumbled back.

Yugi couldn’t believe it. He was having a debate over ethics with a talking head. He jolted. “ _You_ are the reason I’ve been sick today!”

_“Our metabolism was acclimating to sustaining two beings.”_

“ _Our_ metabolism!? You mean _my_ metabolism, _Yugi’s_ metabolism!” Aghast, he stared at the creature. “Get out of my body, you parasite!”

It titled its head, as if in contemplation. _“No. And I’m not a parasite. Not in this instance.”_

“ _No?!_ Like hell you aren’t a parasite!” Yugi exclaimed.

_“I am in no way harming your body. In fact, you will only gain from my occupation. I gain a body that can successfully sustain me, and you gain power and strength beyond your wildest imaginings. By definition, our relationship is mutualistic, not parasitic.”_

Yugi’s brows ached from being furrowed so hard. “I don’t care! Get out of my body!”

That gash-like mouth and those jagged teeth curled into a chilling smirk. _“Make me.”_

Yugi hissed, latched onto the neck protruding from above his clavicle. Cold, wet, webby. He grimaced, tugged. His hand only slipped awkwardly along the surface. The cold permeated his fingers.

It had moved to his hand. He growled in frustration, grabbed at it with his other hand.

It did it again.

Yugi screamed, clawed at it.

It would not leave. He could not get it out.

_“As amused as I am by this entire thing, if you do not cease this nonsense, I will take control of our body again.”_

“ _My_ body!” Yugi hissed.

If the talking head could roll its eyes, it seemed like it would have at that moment. _“As demonstrated, I will not be leaving so soon. At least try to get used to sharing.”_

Yugi continued his relentless digging.

 _“I warned you,”_ it intoned.

The creature dissolved into his skin, and the cold rush overtook him again. He watched the black bloom across his body through paralyzed eyes. Once again, Yugi was towering, on the move, leaping from rooftop to rooftop. The entire time, he screamed internally.

The tallest building in this area of the city loomed closer and closer. Industrial Illusions.

 _Higher. I want to see it all_.

The thought echoed through Yugi’s brain, and he realized with a jolt that it wasn’t his own.

A leap, Yugi felt like his breath would have been caught in his throat. Hurtling through the air at the speed of a bullet. Black blossomed out from each limb, cushioned the blow, and the webby forms solidified into claws. They curled hard, fractured the concrete of the building, and then they were going up.

Yugi could still feel. The wind rushing by. The power crashing through his body.

As exhilarating as it was, it was frightening.

… Just what was this thing capable of?

_“You cannot imagine.”_

They were nearing the top. It had only been the barest handful of seconds. Claws wrapped around the edge, and tension rippled through all of their muscles. The beast launched them up, and rolled gracefully across the surface upon which they landed. The roof of Industrial Illusions was a giant helipad, and Yugi was thankful that it wasn’t in use at the time. From what he could see, there were no surveillance cameras.

The beast moved them close to the edge again. They perched upon the precipice, and the beast looked down upon the twinkling city. Yugi could all but _taste_ its wonder.

 _“This world I find myself in…”_ it started, _“is strangely beautiful.”_

Yugi agreed silently. He’d always been entranced by the eerie beauty of the city at night, too.

_“Yugi, you are a fool if you believe that I will give up this chance. I’ve been kept in the dark for far too long.”_

His head lowered, filmy lips twitching and jagged teeth clicking together.

_“No one will keep me from the light of day. Not anymore.”_

* * *

The woman entered the hospital room.

Gozaburo gazed emptily at her. His eyes were a little clearer, his expression a little more lucid. “What is the news on Field Team Alpha?”

Her jaw was set tight, red-painted lips in a thin line. “Seto retracted their funds. They are scheduled to return to Cairo by the end of next week.”

Gozaburo’s right hand tightly fisted into the blanket. His face flushed hot red. “What?”

The woman took a deep breath. “He’s convinced the Board and the rest of the company that you are functionally incapacitated and unable to make executive decisions. Your say on the matter has been shut down and ignored.”

Teeth sneered clearly from behind a graying mustache. “What a fucking ungrateful _brat_ ,” he spat. He breathed deeply, raggedly, furious, and the woman, still with a blank expression, took a quick step back and to the side, just in time to avoid a Styrofoam cup flying toward her head. “At least tell me you know where the fucking creature is!”

“We don’t know his actual whereabouts now, but an informant working under Seto knows its new host’s name.”

“Well, what is it!?”

She blinked. “Yugi Muto, sir.”

“Find him as soon as possible and capture him. I don’t fucking care how many men it takes.”

* * *

Travel by rooftop-leaping seemed to be the beast’s favorite mode of transportation. For Yugi, the initial terror had faded away, and now he found himself settling into the rhythm, the feeling of freedom, almost like flight, he imagined. After some beseeching, he’d managed to convince the creature to bring them back to the apartment. He had class tomorrow, and he couldn’t afford to stay out any later than they were.

And so, they were, bounding across alleyways and sometimes entire streets. Their whole body began to vibrate. The beast stopped in its tracks, crouched on all fours in alarm and confusion as they rippled.

_“What the hell is that?”_

Yugi was just as confused for a moment. _My phone! It’s ringing!_

_“The speaking device.”_

_Yes! Let me answer it! It’s probably Joey or Grandpa!_

The beast grunted in displeasure, but receded back into Yugi’s body. Shrugging off the lingering cold, Yugi dug into his pocket.

**Joey (Joseph Wheeler)**

“Hey, Joey,” Yugi breathlessly answered.

“Yug’! Where the hell are ya? I was gettin’ worried!” Joey immediately hollered.

“I’m on my way now. I got a little distracted by some… stuff,” he finished lamely.

“ _Stuff_?” Joey questioned.

“Uh… Yeah.”

“Listen, just get your scrawny ass back over here, okay? Gramps already called me, worried out of his mind that you hadn’t called yet. You’re gonna give that man a heart attack at this rate, pipsqueak.”

“Okay. If he calls again, tell him to just call me. I’m not in the subway right now. Also, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“It’s okay, Yug’. You know how I feel about the subway system in this damn city.”

“Yeah.” Yugi picked at his shirt. “I’m hanging up. See you in a few.”

“Okay. See ya.”

_Click_

“You’ve caused nothing but trouble,” Yugi muttered. He could _feel_ the creature’s shrug, and then the cold was surging over him again.

_“Let’s get going, then.”_

* * *

The man looked truly haggard. His long, dark hair, was a frayed mess, and his body was caked with sand and sunburns. Dark shadows contoured his face, and the vessels of his eyes were swollen. Airport security blinked at him, but he remained in the lobby.

Dark brows furrowed, and he fumbled with the satellite phone unit. He pushed a few buttons, lifted the receiver to his ear.

“Doctor Bakura!” the man on the other end gasped. Toby.

“I’ve arrived at the airport in Cairo. Please make arrangements for my return to Domino City,” he growled into the receiver.

“Um, you weren’t due back until next week --”

“I know, and I don’t care. I want back _now_ ,” he hissed.

“O-Okay. I’m sure I can wrangle up a flight for you.”

“Good.”

“Listen, what you said about the other team members--”

“I said just what I needed to say. They are gone. End of discussion.”

_Click_

He slammed the receiver down.

He glared at the people staring at him. They quickly looked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, sorry about the short chapter. I covered all the things that needed to be covered much more quickly than I thought I would. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! See ya next time!


	7. Stay Alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied. Toby appears for a moment here, too. Also, sorry about the ridiculous wait time for this chapter. I really got stuck (as evidenced by the fact that it took me forever to write this)  
> Also, I mentioned before that there will probably not be any solid ships for the story, but I warn you that there may be shippy moments. Mostly for the sake of humor.  
> Also, the chapter title and some of the lines are inspired by the song ["Stay Alive" by Hidden Citizens.](https://www.google.com/search?q=stay+alive+hidden+citizens&oq=sta&aqs=chrome.0.35i39j0j69i57j69i61j69i60l2.1037j0j7&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8)

When Seto Kaiba received the email, he was immediately dialing.

“Hello, this is Toby Purthing--”

“What the hell is going on?” Kaiba immediately began.

“Oh, Mr. Kaiba, sir, are you referring to the email?”

“Yes,” Kaiba hissed. “What the hell do you mean,  _ they're gone _ ?!”

Toby paused a moment. “Well, I don't know, sir. That's all Doctor Bakura would say.”

Gone. The team is gone. 

The gory scene from the alleyway flashed behind his eyelids. “Holy fuck.”

They'd found the other one already, the very thing he had been trying to prevent. 

“How was Doctor Bakura's temperament?” he asked. The twitching, jerking creature from the lab came to mind.

“I don't know of he's normally like that, but he seemed particularly…  _ snappish _ ,” Toby replied. “Quite the rude man.”

No, no, Doctor Bakura was  _ not  _ normally like that. Kaiba had met the man himself. Doctor Reiji Bakura had patience to rival a saint and the gentleness of a spring breeze.

“Fuck,” he hissed. 

“He just called earlier this evening. He'd already made it to Cairo.”

No surprise there. It seemed like the creatures could leap across rooftops like it was an Olympic sport. “What did he say?”

“He demanded that I arrange a flight to get him to Domino as soon as possible.”

Kaiba froze, knuckles white. “What did you do?”

“As he demanded. He's on his way to America as we speak.”

Cold sweat slicked Kaiba's shirt to his skin. “ _ What _ ?” 

“Was… was I  _ not  _ supposed to do that?”

Kaiba gripped the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut. His heart was pounding so hard and fast it made his head hurt and his breath short. “You didn't know any better,  _ but  _ you should've called me first! Or  _ someone _ !”

“I didn't think it was such a big deal.”

Air hissed shakily out of Kaiba's teeth. “The man said the rest of the team was ‘gone,’ and offered no explanation for their disappearances. For all you know,  _ that man is a murderer _ .”

Toby cursed, voice shaking with horror. “What do I do, Mr. Kaiba?”

Kaiba's thoughts raced in time with his throbbing pulse. “Get a team to meet Doctor Bakura when he lands. An  _ armed  _ team. We have no idea what he is capable of. He needs to be detained and quarantined.”

“Quarantined…?”

“I hypothesize that he found another of the organisms and is now infected.”

Toby's shaky breaths crackled in the receiver. “What do you think he did to the rest of the team?”

The phantom smell of blood echoed gruesomely through Kaiba's senses. “He ate them. All of them.”

* * *

Yugi walked from the bus. The mid-morning air was crisp and soft. He shouldered his backpack. 

_ “So you come to this place to learn.” _

“Yes,” Yugi muttered, and he started a little when he realized he said it aloud.

_ “What are you learning?” _

Yugi resisted the urge to shrug.  _ I'm getting a degree in game design and computer programming. _

_ “Games. Like the ones your sloppy housemate was playing?” _

_ Yes. _

_ “I like those games. Especially the one where the characters savagely beat one another to death.” _

_ You're… going to have to be more specific. _

_ “You both played. It was a fist fight. It showed the bones breaking at certain parts.” _

_ Mortal Kombat. _

_ “Yes, Mortal Kombat. I quite like that one. It stirred my appetite.” _

Yugi frowned, horrified. 

_ “Speaking of appetite, I desire sustenance.” _

Yugi sighed. This…  _ thing _ had an insatiable appetite. 

_ “You can eat enough to sustain me or I can make a snack of one of your kidneys. It's all up to you, really.” _

Yugi, still walking, pulled off his backpack to scrounge through its contents. He pulled out a banana. The beast all but purred.

_ “I like these things. Bananas, you call them?” _

Yugi began to peel it. 

_ “What are you doing?” _

“I’m  _ not _ going to eat the peel,” Yugi hissed.

_ “That’s wasteful. The peel has an abundant amount of important nutrients. You’d be foolish not to eat it.” _

_ Well, I’m not. Not even animals eat the peel. _ He pulled the peel down about halfway and bit into the soft flesh underneath.

_ “That’s why they are animals; they are ignorant. Eat the peel.” _

“No,” Yugi replied through a mouthful of banana.

The beast growled.

_ Listen here, parasite.  _

An indignant huff.  _ “I am  _ not  _ a parasite _ .”

_ Don’t care. If you are going to coerce me into eating, I am going to eat what I damn well please, however I damn well please. Also, you need to leave me alone. I’m here to learn, and I don’t think I can do that when you are chattering your face off like a parrot with ADHD.  _

A grumble.

_ Thank you. I’m glad we got that all covered. _

* * *

Before class, Yugi hurriedly completed all of the homework he had missed. It wasn’t much, but he didn’t want even  _ this  _ debacle to get him behind in classes. If his GPA dropped too much, he’d lose his merit scholarships. And Yugi literally could not afford to lose his merit scholarships. 

_ “What is the purpose of this ‘homework’?” _

_ Practice, basically. _

A hum, and then silence. Yugi quietly thanked the beast, and continued with his work.

* * *

Yugi’s first class went uninterrupted, which was nice. It wasn’t until he was walking to his next one that he remembered that Professor Romero had cancelled Wednesday’s class. He didn’t need to go back until Monday. He turned.

_ “Yugi.” _

Yugi blinked, hummed inquisitively.

_ “I require sustenance.” _

A sigh through his nose.

_ “Our metabolism is still acclimating,” _ the creature offered in explanation.

Yugi walked to the cafe. It was a little early to be eating lunch, but he wanted to save the rest of his snacks for later in the day. He pulled open the door and nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of the bell on the door ringing.

_ Calm down. _

_ “It startled me.” _

“Yugi!” Tea called, bounding up to the counter. “You’re early!”

He stepped forward, rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. One of my classes got cancelled, but, since I was hungry, I thought I’d come by.”

“Well, either way, what can I get you?” She said, beaming, blue eyes sparkling.

It was like seeing her with new eyes. Flushed, healthy skin, a good amount of meat on her bones. From the shape of her shoulders under her uniform shirt, it was obvious that she was athletic, in shape. Yet still, she had healthy amount of fat on her. And her hips.

_ Her hips _ .

But, Yugi realized with a start, while he could agree with these thoughts, they were most certainly not his own.

And a cold chill crept down his spine. 

_ You are  _ **_not_ ** _ eating Tea! _

_ “Yugi!”  _ the beast exclaimed in his head, and the thought bounced off the walls of his skull with such force Yugi feared that he would become concussed.  _ “You took this female as a mate, and yet you let her go without creating offspring?! Where are your basic instincts?!” _

“Uh, Yugi…? You okay there?” Tea asked, her brows creasing with concern.

Yugi smiled shakily. “Uh, just a club sandwich. Like usual.”

The beast kept nagging at him for his attention, but he pushed away the prodding and probing until he made it to his seat.

_ It’s not as simple as that! _ he snapped.

_ “I fail to see why it isn’t. She’s healthy, she’s strong, she has the most viable set of child-bearing hips I have ever laid eyes upon --” _ (Yugi could imagine the beast counting off the reasons on big black claws)  _ “-- and she was yours! Any red-blooded human male should have jumped on the chance to partake in those genetics, you realize.” _

Yugi slapped a palm to his forehead.  _ Uh, no. Men don’t really think like that anymore,  _ **_you realize._ **

_ “Then they are fools. Humans exist only to procreate and sow chaos on the natural world. But you, Yugi, are the king of fools. It’s not like you will be able to get another female of that caliber--” _

“Hey!” Yugi cried, aloud this time. Several other students turned to stare at him, and he waved sheepishly before ducking his head.

_ “-- so you most certainly should have taken the chance while you had it.” _

_ Listen, _ Yugi started, quiet _ , she just wasn’t as into me as I was her. It wasn’t fair to expect that out of her, so we broke it off. We’re better as friends. _

_ “Well, as friends, you better hope you still manage to fertilize her. She may be the only hope you have.” _

_ Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence. _ Yugi paused.  _ Wait, I never told you that I was in a relationship with her. Can you… see my memories or something? _

_ “It’s more complicated than that, but, in short, yes.”  _ And then the rush of babbling returned.  _ “My point is that you should jump on that, both literally and figuratively, before another male claims her womb --” _

Yugi nearly slammed his head on the table.  _ Enough! Jesus, you are the  _ **_most_ ** _ exhausting being in existence! _

_ “Don’t hyperbolize.” _

_ Please,  _ **_please_ ** _ let me eat in peace. _

_ “Fine. Perhaps eating will settle your sour disposition today.” _

Yugi rolled his eyes.

* * *

They were hidden amongst the crowd. Perhaps if one stood and watched, observed all the people in the terminal with utmost scrutiny, they would notice. The shifty glances toward Gate 13. The subtle rustling of clothing. Hands momentarily settling on bulges in clothing.

Guns. 

Perhaps if one stared closely enough, they would see the nude earpieces.

When he came, they would capture him. If he became violent, they would call in the armored men who had greater firepower.

But, for now, it was a waiting game.

The flight from Cairo had been delayed do to an oceanic storm, but its arrival was scheduled for any minute now. 

Any minute now.

And, surely enough, the plane landed, roaring loud enough to be heard even from within the airport. If one cared to notice, a collective tension settled over various men and women inside the building.

They’d seen the videos.

They knew what these monsters were capable of.

They waited. And they waited.

Finally, passengers disembarked from the aircraft.

They’d studied the photos, what to look for. Sunken cheeks, darkened veins, circles around the eyes, twitches. With those haunting images in mind, they combed through the jet-lagged commuters. One by one, exhausted face by exhausted face, the flyers trudged through the gate. Yes, they looked haggard, but no where near that foreboding sickliness from the still-shots of that disturbing video.

They knew Doctor Bakura boarded the plane. But there was no telling if the organism had found a new host during that sixteen-hour flight.

But, eventually, the trickle of people slowed, until it seemed that the plane had emptied itself.

Doctor Bakura did not exit the plane. Immediately, heads turned, suddenly, chins tucking into lapels and lips barely moving to murmur into microphones.

_ Doctor Bakura did not exit the plane! _

Now, the commuters dotting the place did notice. Their animal instincts picked up on the rising panic, the acrid fear and wrought tension wreathing the air, thick like some dreadful blanket.

It was a KaibaCorp plane, so gaining permission to search it was easy.

But that panic raised, ever higher, a tidal wave shadowing them with its terrible height.

Somehow, somewhere, Doctor Bakura had escaped.

Doctor Bakura was gone.

* * *

Yugi waited patiently at the bus stop. He looked at his old, beat-up digital watch. He was actually on time today. He sighed, relaxed back against the bench. 

But the shadow in his head was restless.

_ “Yugi.” _

“What?” he whispered, head tipped back, eyes closed.

_ “We are being watched.” _

“I’m pretty sure you’re just paranoid,” Yugi muttered. He was sure the other people waiting were giving him strange looks. But he was too tired to care anymore.

_ “No. Don’t be obvious about it, but look over your left shoulder. Leaning against the ‘University Center’ sign. That man.” _

Yugi sighed, this time exasperated, and made a show of twisting in his seat and grabbing the back of the bench to stretch his back and sides. Surely enough, there was a man there. Tall, but somehow completely bland. He wore a long jacket, fitting for the cooling weather. 

_ “He has a gun.” _

_ How do you know these things? _

_ “Instinct.” _

_ Wow. Great explanation. A plus. _

_ “Do not get on that bus.” _

_ You know what happened the last time I walked home? I got a parasite. That’s what happened. _

_ “We can’t be sure if he knows where we live. If you ride the bus home, it might mean our certain doom. And that of your roommate.” _

Yugi stiffed, and he leaned his elbows on his knees.  _ Okay. What do we do? _

_ “We’ll walk. He will try to ambush us in a less populated area. As a matter of fact, we’ll lead him right to one.” _

Yugi worried his lower lip with his teeth.  _ What if he has buddies? _

_ “We’ll take care of them, too.” _

_ I don’t want to kill any more people, _ Yugi whimpered.

_ “Sometimes you must do what you have to do to survive. Even if it means taking another’s life to spare your own.” _

_ I’m not an animal. _

_ “You can pretend to be civilized. But you  _ **_are_ ** _ an animal.” _

Yugi shook his head.

_ “Does the wolf apologize, Yugi?” _

_ No. _

_ “Neither should you.” _

A pause ensued, but the clamor of Yugi’s own thoughts filled his head.

_ “Let’s go.” _

The cold surged through his limbs, and he was standing. The beast took control, manipulating Yugi’s body like a puppet on strings. Yugi let it.

He passed, dreamlike, through the crowd, away from the bus stop. 

_ “He’s following.” _

Yugi grunted, and, instead of remaining dormant, and instead of fighting back, he worked in tandem with his guest to walk faster along the sidewalk.  _ We’ll go to the industrial district. It’s all but abandoned there. _

_ “Good thinking.” _

_ I’m still not happy about this. _

_ “It wouldn’t matter if you were. You know I could easily overpower you and kill him. Right here. Right now.” _

_ Do you always resort to coercion? _

_ “For the most part.” _

But, like this, working together in body, Yugi could feel it. They were bleeding into one another mentally, too. He sensed the beast’s thoughts more clearly, and could feel that the beast was feeling him, too. Heightened sight, smell, awareness. He could  _ feel _ the beast tampering with his bodily processes. Lungs taking in greater capacity, as was the heart, hormones feeding into his bloodstream.

It was priming them up for combat.

_ “You were right. More have joined him. There’s another flanking us across the street, and one behind him several yards back.” _

_ I noticed. _

_ “We might not make it to the industrial district at this rate.” _

_ If they’re following us, they know what you are. They’re not going to start a scene where everyone can see. They’ll wait. _

_ “I wouldn’t be so sure. They seem impatient.” _

They walked faster. The footsteps trailing them picked up speed.

_ “They know we know.” _

Without even looking back, they broke into a sprint.

Cold pounded through his veins. The beast was pumping his muscles with raw power. Yugi felt like some wild animal bounding through the streets. They made no pause for the car about to go over the crosswalk. A horn blared, sharp and dull in their ears, but they slid, graceful, unharmed over the hood and onto the sidewalk onto the other side. They resumed the break-neck pace as if nothing happened.

_ “They’re keeping up pace surprisingly well.” _

And then the beast slowed.

_ What are you doing? We’ll outrun them at this rate! _

_ “That much is true, but what then? They will not stop. They will continue hunting us. Today, tomorrow. It matters not to them, as long as they get us in the end.” _

_ I hate it when you’re right, _ Yugi replied, and he honestly felt like crying from all the overwhelming feelings.

_ “Shit!”  _

The beast tried to tug their body to duck, but was too slow. 

Electricity, hot and biting, sizzled at Yugi’s shoulder.

They’d been tased.

But they plowed on, only stumbling momentarily before the strings were disconnected from their clothing.

_ “The bastards!” _ the beast snarled.

The chase continued through the streets of Domino City, and they dodged any more attempts to stun them with electricity; the attacks hardly harmed them, but the beast found them abhorrently annoying.

Final, they made it to the industrial district. They cornered themselves in an alleyway.

The men, now a total of six, advanced upon them.

“You’ve got no where to run, kid. Come with us.”

Yugi snarled, jagged teeth flashing and inhuman tongue rolling.

The cold surged up and out, encasing Yugi, and suddenly he was towering over them.

A scream echoed through the abandoned streets and warehouses, following closely by a gunshot and an enraged roar that shook windows in their frames. Those hefty men were no match for the hulking black beast; they went flying like ragdolls in the face of the monster’s brute strength. Bones crunched, flesh split, blood dripped onto the dirty pavement.

Muscles tore, skulls imploding under the snapping bite of huge jagged teeth.

It was a bloodbath.

Nothing but carnage was left behind.

With huge black claws, the beast rifled through bloodied, shredded jackets. Despite its size, it managed to delicately pinch the object between foreclaw and thumb.

KaibaCorp.

* * *

Ryou Bakura lifted his head when the door opened. His grin split his fair face wide. 

“Dad! You’re back early.”

There was no response.

“Dad… you’re not looking too hot. You might want to lay down.”

“... What is it, Ryou? Do I not get a hug from my favorite son? I’ve been gone for so long…”

“Of course!” Ryou chirped. He stood, wrapped his lanky arms around his father. He wrinkled his nose but ignored his father’s stench.

A hand, cold, cold, cold, touched his shoulder.

“Ah, perfect.”

And then were was nothing but icy black and coppery blood.


	8. Bad Intentions

The street cameras readily documented the chase. Yugi, sprinting like a cheetah on the savannah, KaibaCorp employees trailing not too far behind. Yugi, sliding over the hood of a moving car and landing upright, unharmed on the other side. 

And then the armed men started firing their stun guns.

Yugi hardly staggered, only kept pushing forward. 

But the men nearly hit innocent pedestrians.

Kaiba snarled, holding his forehead in his hand as he watched them try to engage an incredibly dangerous organism in the middle of one of the busiest sectors of Domino City. 

The beast could have taken over at any moment.

Yugi could have killed them all.

Yugi led them, like some sly animal, right into a trap. The industrial district was practically abandoned. It made the perfect place for a gruesome showdown -- plenty of space, plenty of things to climb on to get a better vantage point. 

Kaiba furrowed his brow. The beast itself obviously wouldn’t care about innocent bystanders getting hurt -- its escape from the KaibaCorp laboratory demonstrated that in gory detail.

Yugi had  _ some _ control.

Kaiba switched off the feed before he could witness the ensuing bloodbath.

His phone trilled loudly in his pocket. He quickly answered. “Do you have him detained?”

“No. Doctor Bakura is no where to be found. He never came through the gate and he isn’t on the plane, though he was amongst the boarding passengers.”

“Fucking hell,” Kaiba hissed. The situation was getting worse and worse. “Get to his home. His address should be on file. The organism might bring him to a familiar space.”

“On it.”

“Be careful. These things are incredibly dangerous. If at all possible, do not engage him until you are  _ certain _ the capture will be successful,” Kaiba warned. “I need to go. I have a mess to clean up.”

* * *

The door slammed open with a deafening  _ bang! _ and Gozaburo Kaiba jumped where he was sitting on the edge of the hospital bed. Seto stormed in with all the ferocity of a blizzard.

“I knew you were an idiot, but I didn’t realize how much of one, Gozaburo,” Seto snapped, roiling with rage.

“You do not speak to me like--” and then papers were hitting his face and scattering all over the floor.

“Six more men are dead because of you,” Seto snarled. “Many more could’ve been. They engaged the symbiote right in the middle of a fucking rush hour.”

“It needs to be captured at whatever cost --”

Seto’s voice raised higher, ringing fiercely off the sterile walls. “These  _ things _ aren’t going to  _ let you  _ take them! They will fight, tooth and nail, and no one will escaped unscathed. You are obviously losing your grip on reality.”

Gozaburo stood up, unsteadily, but drew up to his full height. He was still an inch shorter than his adopted sun. “I am your father and your fucking meal ticket,  _ boy _ , and you will treat me with respect. In my absence you have grown too--”

“Not anymore,” Seto hissed, a sharp, smiling sneer twisting his lips. “You were never my father, and you no longer have any standing with KaibaCorp.”

“What the hell are you saying?”

“I’m saying I bought fifty-two percent of the shares. And now the board is on my side, too. I am majority owner, and they have ejected you from your role as CEO and president and have put me in your place, old man.” His eyes were alight with a cold fire that made the back of Gozaburo’s neck sweat. “You might want to show  _ your boss _ a little more respect, Gozaburo.”

“You couldn’t--”

“Well, I did. Next time you want to pull a stunt like this, you’ll have to go through me. You should consider yourself lucky that I didn’t fire you, old man.” Seto whirled again, waving dismissively over his shoulder. “You might want to clean up those papers.”

Gozaburo could only sit in shocked silence. And then he fumed.

“Fucking brat doesn’t know what’s coming to him.”

* * *

The wind screamed by as they were in freefall. With a loud thud, they landed on the next rooftop and continued pelting along.

_ Where are we going? _

_ “We can’t return to the apartment. They might have already sent men there.” _

Panic surged through him like waves pounding a cliff.  _ What about Joey? _

_ “We will have to trust that he’s okay. I doubt they would engage without us returning.” _

_ I don’t know if I can trust that. They were more than willing to try and get us in the middle of a crowded street. What’s stopping them from kidnapping Joey and trying to torture information out of him? _

The beast hummed, but it ignored him.

Nothing. There was nothing stopping them from harming Joey. But what choice did they have? If they returned to save him, then he  _ would  _ know something, and it might incite more violence that could’ve been avoided.

It was like Schrodinger’s cat. Without them present, Joey was both safer and in more danger than with them there.

_ The only place I can think of is Grandpa’s. We can at least stop there to regroup. _

Another hum, but then the beast was veering, changing direction, crossing the street in one mighty leap, and they were heading for the game shop.

_ Why are people from KaibaCorp after you? _ Yugi asked, wanting to fill the silence and really,  _ really _ wanting answers.

_ “They are the ones that brought me here. They released me from my prison. But the host I had was insufficient. I was dying, and they were not about to let me out anytime soon.” _

_ So you broke out _ , Yugi finished, remembering the man in the alleyway, torn to hell and riddled with glass shards. 

_ “It was life or death, Yugi. You cannot blame me for fighting to survive.” _

_ I… I don’t _ , Yugi thought, and it shocked him that he was genuine. He couldn’t judge the beast for doing what came naturally to it. Like he wouldn’t judge a cat for eating a bird, or a lion for taking down a wildebeest. 

_ “The situation we are in is beyond the spans of your human morality, beyond the functions of the laws of this society. We are in a gray zone, and you must come to terms with that.” _

_ I… I know. _

_ “Good.” _

_ But I still just want it to end. _

* * *

Kaiba dismounted his motorcycle and set his helmet on its seat. He stared up at the apartment building. It could’ve been worse, but he still found himself wrinkling his nose in distaste.

Hopefully, the symbiote brought Yugi back home after the incident in the industrial district. He stormed up the steps. He apparently had to buzz himself in. Yugi’s file in his memory easily came to mind.

He lived in apartment 10. 

He pressed the button.

_ “Yeah? Who is it?” _

Kaiba sneered. “Wheeler…”

“ _ Kaiba? What the fuck do  _ you _ want?” _

Kaiba rolled his eyes skyward. “I don’t have time for this. Is Yugi home?”

A snort crackled over the old speaker.  _ “What the hell do you want with Yugi?” _

Kaiba’s teeth gritted hard. “Listen, idiot, this is a fucking life-or-death emergency.  _ Where is Yugi?” _

_ “Woah, woah. Calm down. You might be a prick but ya never lied to me. Yugi should be in class right now.” _ A pause, and Kaiba’s mouth dropped open, but then Wheeler was talking again.  _ “Uh, actually he should be out of class and home by now. Or at least on the bus.” _

Kaiba exasperatedly rubbed his face. He would’ve been better off trying to follow the street camera feeds. Although it seemed the symbiote preferred to travel via rooftops. 

_ “I mean, I guess your best bet is trying his grandpa’s place. Ya remember the game shop, right? Anyway, do you need me to call Yugi for ya?” _

“No,” Kaiba immediately snapped, surprising himself. “Don’t call him.”

And then he was turning away and storming back to his motorcycle. With a splutter and a roar, he was off.

_ “Kaiba? Hey, Kaiba? Ya just walked away, didn’t ya? Fuckin’ rude-ass weirdo.” _

* * *

Sugoroku was getting the mail when they dropped down from a nearby rooftop. He looked up, his eyes got as big as saucers, and that was the first time Yugi ever heard his grandpa scream like a little girl.

_ Jesus Christ! You’re going to give him a literal heart attack! I told you we should’ve switched out a couple blocks back! _

The beast didn’t seem anything, but it  _ felt _ like it was sheepish, which was going to have to be enough. The cold receded back inside him, furling like wings. He stumbled forward. “Grandpa!”

But those violet eyes were looking at him in horror, and he was still reeling back until he was against the front door of the game shop. He was wailing in incoherent Japanese.

“Grandpa,” Yugi called beseechingly in his grandfather’s native tongue. “It’s just me.” He reached forward, but Sugoroku reeled back, and hot tears stung Yugi’s eyes. “Grandpa…” he whimpered. “Please believe me.”

But Sugoroku was only shrieking things about evil spirits and demons.

“Grandpa!” Yugi cried, his cheeks hot and wet. But the old man only fumbled the door open and slammed it close behind him. The lock engaged with a loud click. Yugi tugged on the knob, sobbing, but it seemed his efforts only made his grandfather’s sounds of distress louder. Yugi sank to his knees. “Grandpa!”

He weakly beat his fist on the door, but he crumpled further, watched his tears sink into the pavement.

His sobs wracked his body, and the horror on his grandfather’s face, his terrified wailing, echoed through Yugi’s senses. He curled up there, right in front of the door, hugging his knees and trying to smother his tears.

Something poignant resonated deep inside him, and, he realized, it was guilt, and not his own.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there. But suddenly, the door was opening, and rapid Japanese was echoing and then something grainy was thrown on him.

Salt.

His grandfather was throwing salt on him.

Yugi sobbed, wrapping tighter around himself.

Sugoroku thought he was a demon.

Yugi dared a glance up.

Sugoroku was glaring at him distrustfully through the glass. Yugi slowly sat up, pressed his hand to the window. “I love you, Grandpa,” he said, just loud enough, in quivering Japanese. 

He slowly stood up, and stepped away, his hand falling from the glass. With one last tearful look over his shoulder, Yugi walked to the sidewalk.

“I don’t know where to go now,” he whispered, voice quivering, hands shaking as he brushed the salt from his shirt. 

The beast didn’t respond.

Yugi’s phone started ringing. It was Joey. He turned it off.

Maybe it would be better if he just disappeared.

_ This is all your fault. _

The beast didn’t respond. The rumbling of a motorcycle echoed from around the corner, and Yugi ducked into an alleyway.

* * *

Kaiba came roaring up to the Kame Game shop. He parked quickly and strode up to the door. Something crunched, gritty, under his foot, and he looked down.

Salt. He frowned. It was lining the door step. It made him think of those ridiculous paranormal thriller movies that Mokuba liked to watch. He stepped over it and moved to open the door.

It was locked. “Mister Muto!” He called, thumping his fist on the door. 

Sugoroku, looking much older than Kaiba remembered -- though it had been several years since last they saw each other. He was scowling, an expression so strange on the normally-smiling face. 

Sugoroku opened the door and glared about before gesturing Kaiba to come in.

Kaiba frowned, but he shook it away. He didn’t have time to worry about the old man’s senile behavior. “I’m looking for Yugi,” he began, and, at the name, Sugoroku recoiled.

“Yugi is gone,” the old man hissed. “A demon has eaten him and taken his place.”

Kaiba stared down at him, wide-eyed. 

So the old man had seen the symbiote, presumably. That explained the salt on the doorstep.

Wheeler had been right. Yugi  _ did  _ come here. But his grandfather had turned him away.

“I assure you, it’s not a demon,” Kaiba replied.

Sugoroku huffed. “Easy for you to say. You have not seen what I have seen, boy.”

Kaiba arched an eyebrow. “I have, actually, and you’re wrong. That’s still Yugi,” Kaiba said monotonously. “Well, mostly.”

Violet eyes narrowed at him. “Explain.”

“My father was dealing with… some nefarious things. He found these organisms. They’re parasites. They latch onto people to survive. One escaped the lab and infected Yugi,” Kaiba said slowly. “My father’s men have been chasing him all around the city and he’s been trying to find a safe place to hide.” A rather stinted synopsis, but there you have it.

Sugoroku’s eyes grew wide, and he turned away, holding his hand up to his mouth. 

“Look, I’m not going to lie to you; in this state, Yugi’s incredibly dangerous. I have every intention of saving Yugi, but I need your cooperation to find him. Has he come here today?” He asked sternly, although he already knew the answer.

“Y-Yes,” Sugoroku stuttered. “Are you saying this is why he’s been acting strangely lately?”

Strangely? “Yes.” Kaiba wanted to ask for more details, but he didn’t want to give away his advantage of seeming to know more than he really did. “Has he been looking… sickly?”

“Well, not quite. Just, different, I suppose,” Sugoroku muttered. “I…” he sighed. “I didn’t let him in. He was here not even five minutes ago. He… he was crying…”

Kaiba frowned at that. “He’s been through a lot. Crying is a rather mild reaction.”

Sugoroku was shrinking into himself. “I turned him away… He needed me…”

Kaiba rolled his eyes. “I don’t have the time for your pity party. Did you see what way he went?”

“... towards Second. Left. You may be able to catch up to him.”

“I doubt it,” Kaiba muttered. “If you weren’t such a superstitious old coot…” but he trailed off and shook his head again. Sugoroku flinched. Kaiba’s shoulders heaved with his sigh, and he dug into his pocket to pull out his card. “If you see him again, call me. Immediately.”

Sugoroku took the card in trembling fingers. “I will.”

Kaiba turned to leave.

“Bring him home safe,” Sugoroku said quietly.

Kaiba didn’t look over his shoulder, just turned his head slightly. “No promises.”

* * *

From atop a neighboring building, they watched him exit the game shop.

_ “You know this man?” _

Yugi nodded. “Yeah. Seto Kaiba. I went to school with him.”

_ “Kaiba? Yugi, he could be an enemy. Those men -- the ones who want us, they were from KaibaCorp.” _

Yugi frowned. “But…” He knew from the news that Seto  _ did  _ work at KaibaCorp now. “... that doesn’t mean he’s our enemy.”

_ “His father was in direct control of the project that brought me here.” _

“He hates his father,” Yugi whispered, remembering conversations with Mokuba, the younger of the two Kaiba brothers. 

_ “We need to take him out. It’s better to be safe than sorry.” _

“We’re  _ not _ killing him. Innocent until proven guilty. I just want to talk to him,” Yugi murmured. “Maybe we can get things sorted out.”

_ “Sorted out how?” _ the beast asked, but allowed Yugi to use his powers to climb down to street level again.

“I don’t know,” Yugi hissed. “Maybe get it to where we aren’t being chased by armed men anymore?”

Yugi waited in the dark of the alleyway. Kaiba was quickly walking down the sidewalk, but Yugi managed to whisper “Kaiba!” right in time. 

The tall young man whirled, blue eyes narrowing, then widening when he realized it was Yugi.

“Yugi,” he said, and then he turned on his heel to approach the alleyway. Yugi retreated several steps back. “I’ve been looking for you.”

The beast’s unease lapped at the edges of Yugi’s mind, but he staunchly ignored it. 

Kaiba paused, eyes lingering on Yugi’s face, and Yugi suddenly remembered that he was smeared with tears that he never wiped away. He swiped his shirtsleeve over his face. “Sorry. I’m a mess.”

“Hn,” Kaiba approached, but let a considerable amount of distance stay between them.

“Do… do you know what’s going on…?” Yugi asked quietly.

“More than you do, actually,” Kaiba replied monotonously. 

“Why did KaibaCorp men attack me earlier today?” And cold pulsed through Yugi like a threat.  _ Stop that _ .

But Kaiba took another step back. Blue eyes cautious… and afraid. “Those weren’t my men. They were Gozaburo’s.”

“You father’s…?” 

Kaiba sneered. “That man  _ isn’t _ my father. You don’t have to worry about him, either. I’ve ousted him. He’s got about as much power in KaibaCorp as the average chicken does after today.”

Yugi sagged with relief, but the beast was still on guard. 

“He was dangerous, unhinged,” Kaiba continued. “He was putting far too many people in danger.”

“What do you want with me, then?” Yugi asked.

Kaiba took a careful step forward. “Yugi, that parasite is dangerous. I know you can’t fully control it. And I know you don’t like violence. Come with me.” And, for the first time Yugi ever saw it, that impassive stone face was emphatic. “We can help you.”

But the beast’s paranoia was overwhelming. It had Yugi shaking, feeling it as if it were his own. He stumbled back, shaking his head.

“Yugi, the longer you’re out here, the more chances he’ll have to hurt somebody.” A grave tone that beset Yugi’s heart with coldness. “I know about the mugger, Yugi. I know what  _ it _ did to him. And I know you would never do something like that.” 

_ “He has a fucking gun, Yugi!” _ the beast snapped, and Yugi found himself crouching like an animal in the alleyway, shaking, whimpering.

“Yugi --” another cautious step forward. 

“ _ Stay back _ !” Yugi cried, voice shaking and bleeding in and out with another tone that wasn’t his own. “S-Stay back. It knows you’re armed, Kaiba.”

Surprise, and then forced into blankness again. “Yugi, it could be killing you. Right now, as we speak. It eats its hosts away. We can’t be sure how much you have left before it thinks you’re useless and moves on to someone else, someone who can’t temper it so well.”

Yugi’s inhale was so sharp it hurt his lungs and throat. He tried to move forward, but the cold was wrapping around his limbs and holding him in place.

_ “He’s  _ **_lying,_ ** _ Yugi!” _

“It won’t let me move,” Yugi whimpered. “I want to, Kaiba. I’m scared.”

“I know you’re scared. A lot has happened in the last couple of days. But, Yugi, it’s not the only one. There’s another one out there, right now. If you come with me, the city will be a lot safer.”

The beast froze, and then suddenly it was overwhelming, pushing at the edges of Yugi’s mind with agonizing force. Yugi held his head, and he couldn’t hear his screams, but he could feel them in his throat.

_ “We are  _ **_leaving_ ** _!” _

And then they were towering, rippling with power and frenzy.

Kaiba gasped, reeling back, reaching for his hip.

A growl that seemed vibrate the very buildings around them, and the beast was surging forward, jaws parting.

_ No! _ Yugi cried, feeling the collar of Kaiba’s shirt in their monstrous hand. The gun went off, but the bullet went cracking off into some bricks; the beast had batted the gun out of Kaiba’s hand as if swatting a fly.

Closer, Yugi could taste Seto’s fear on his tongue, and his terrible cry rang in his ears.

_ NO! He’s my friend! _

_ “Friends don’t try to kill you, Yugi,”  _ the beast snarled aloud. And he lunged.

_ No! _ And the screamed rippled through the slimy black coating his skin. Kaiba dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes, and they reeled back, thrashing this way and that in the fight for control.

Kaiba groaned from where he was crumpled on the ground, and he slowly propped himself up. Blood was hot on the air, and it made Yugi panic more.

Instead of creating another point of contention, the beast was off, scaling the walls and disappearing over the rooftops. 

_ “Whatever. We have more important things to worry about now.” _

* * *

The surveillance team shared a glance. There was no sign of Reiji Bakura. Perhaps they were too late, and he’d already left. Or perhaps he never returned home.

Perhaps they’d been wrong the whole time, and Doctor Bakura was still in Cairo. Kaiba had said not to engage… but shouldn’t they at least check the home for signs of life?

So, they basically drew straws, short straws suiting up and arming up to approach the apartment. Still, they tried to remain inconspicuous -- Doctor Bakura’s file said he had a son that lived with him in the apartment, and they didn’t want to spook the kid.

So, they approached, and knocked politely but firmly on the door.

But then they smelled it.

Blood. A lot of it.

They shared another glance, then looked back to where the rest were in hiding.

One turned his chin into his lapel. “Sir, we smell… blood. It’s pretty bad. Permission to enter?”

“Go ahead. Remain on guard.”

The door was rather easy to knock open; it only took a couple of concerted efforts to bust the deadbolt through the doorframe. 

And, despite being well-trained professionals, the gore on the inside of the apartment nearly made them vomit.

“Dear god…” 

Blood and viscera,  _ everywhere _ . The walls, the ceiling. Pooling on the floor in a thick, coagulated sludge. 

Bit of…  _ human _ littered the floor, shredded by so many jagged teeth. Splinters of broken bones. It was unmistakable. Someone had been devoured.

* * *

Kaiba groaned in pain, gingerly touched his bleeding lip, and grimaced at the scrapes on his palm. His wrist, the one with the hand that held the gun, throbbed. It was probably sprained or broken. Either way, it hurt like a motherfucker. He leaned back against the wall of the alleyway and tried to breath through the agony. 

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed. His heart still fluttered like a caged bird in his chest. 

It would’ve killed him. If it weren’t for Yugi, it would’ve bitten his head off right there. 

_ Friends don’t try to kill you, Yugi _ .

Could they communicate internally?

He laughed mockingly at himself. He was in no state to be puzzling over this.

And then his phone was trilling. He leaned his head against the hard brick and groaned. He contemplated not answering it, but it was probably important.

So, he leaned forward, cradling his injured wrist to his stomach, and dug into his jacket pocket for his phone.

“What?” he breathed.

“Doctor Bakura returned home before we began monitoring. There’s… well, it’s a bloodbath inside the apartment. We’re not sure whose… remains are there. The organism is gone now.”

_ Today fucking sucks. _


	9. A Dangerous Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I’ve been wanting my updates to stay within at most one month of one another for each particular story, but it seemed I just couldn’t make it happen for this one. Either way, I hope you’ll appreciate the update!

“Motherfucker…” Kaiba hissed. He cradled his arm close to his body and lurched into a standing position. It hurt like a bitch to even breath. He tooth a moment to suck air in and out through his teeth before he began walking forward. The pain in his wrist and the quickly draining adrenaline left him dizzy and nauseous, so he took a moment to rest against the wall until most of the queasy feeling faded. 

No way in hell would he be able to ride his motorcycle back like this. 

Thank god for ambidexterity, he thought dryly as he pulled out his phone again and speed-dialed.

“Roland, I am currently unable to ride my motorcycle back. I need someone to retrieve it for me and I also need someone to come pick me up.” He grimaced at how tight and breathless his own voice sounded.

“Yes, Master Kaiba. Where is the bike?”

He didn’t bother asking about Seto Kaiba’s location -- after one too many kidnapping attempts, he’d made it a habit to wear a GPS tracker everywhere he went. 

“Do you remember that run-down game shop? It’s there.”

“Roger.” A moment of silence. “Do you need medical attention, Master Kaiba?”

Blue eyes, tight around the corners, stared down. Black and blue and purple was starting to gather at his wrist, as well as swelling and localized redness. It didn’t look too promising. “Yes. I may have sprained or fractured my wrist.” He limped out of the alleyway. “Maybe other injuries. It’s hard to tell when I ache all over,” he commented with no small amount of dry wit. “I was already contacted by the team assigned with collecting Doctor Bakura. I need you to get the message out that  _ no one _ will engage with anyone suspected of being infected by an organism. Not until we get more information. They are incredibly dangerous, and it is nearly impossible to reason with their hosts when they have such ability to interfere.”

“Understood.” A quick breath. “A vehicle has been dispatched to pick you up. An extra passenger is also there to drive the bike back to wherever you wish.”

“Hn.” Kaiba grunted.

“Will that be all, Master Kaiba?”

“No. I want you to gather all of the surviving researchers from my father’s team. Hopefully they learned enough to give us some sort of advantage against these things. That’ll be all,” and he hung up.

He scrubbed his free hand across his face, careful to avoid any tender spots. What a long fucking week.

* * *

Yugi was breathless with fear and anger and frustration, and he wasn’t sure how much of it was his own. But the beast ran without pause, faster than ever. Each building was thrown behind them in long gray streaks. Yugi could feel his heart pounding like huge wings in his ears.

The beast was badly shaken.

_ Whatever. We have more important things to worry about now. _

The memory of those words echoed in his head like ripples on the surface of a pond. 

_ There are others like you _ , Yugi decided to think directly to the black in his veins.

_ “Yes.” _

_ How many? _

_ “I do not know. But, currently, there is only one that I know of that he could have possibly been referring to.” _ A pause as they lunged over an intersection.  _ “The Devourer.” _

* * *

Pale white hair whipped about wildly. Way up here, the wind was fierce and cold. But the thin boy perched on the edge of the roof seemed unaffected.

Bloodshot brown eyes stared up at the building before him.

* * *

_ “He overpowers others like us, overwhelms them into submission and then absorbing them into himself. Each time, with each victim, he grows in power.” _

* * *

Unblinking, he tilted his head. This host was physically better suited for his needs, but the previous had much more important information trapped inside his head. 

But it was brought here.

KaibaCorp Tower.

* * *

_ “If you think  _ **_I_ ** _ am ruthless… well, let’s just say that he has me beat in all aspects.” _

* * *

Ghostly white skin was stained pink and brown by blood, and fine-boned fingers tightened around the edge of the concrete. Veins pulsed black, and then that roiling darkness was seeping outwards. A black beast grinned up at the seemingly endless tower of glass. So many jagged teeth snarled with delight, and the beast skulked away, toward the opposite edge of the building.

* * *

_ “He knows only lust for power and blood.” _

* * *

Eerie eyes, white and oblong and reptile and heartless. Then it was turning again, a split-second before it was sprinting. Its huge feet pounded audibly on the tar roof. With a deep, maniacal laugh that vibrated the very air, it lunged over the edge in a wide arch.

* * *

_ “Seto Kaiba is a fool if he thinks he can stop him.” _

* * *

Huge black claws slammed into thick glass, pierced it. Spiderweb cracks veined out, but the beast was already on the move. Powerful arms and legs pumped as if the beast were only sprinting across the ground as it scaled up the glass wall. Small shards of glass fell down, but the sturdy stuff stayed mostly in place even as it was fractured by indomitable talons.

A snarled laugh, a long, pick, slick tongue lolling out of a maw of razor sharp teeth. 

Yes, this was more like it. This was what a perfect host felt like. 

He’ll stand no chance, that one.

* * *

His office phone started ringing as soon as he took his seat. 

Kaiba groaned, and reached his free arm -- the one not wrapped in a sling -- forward to pick it up.

“Mr. Kaiba! Check the outside cameras! There’s--”

But he already had the feeds pulled up onto his monitor. “Jesus Christ.”

It was scaling right up the side of KaibaCorp Tower. 

He blanched. He must’ve really pissed the thing off, and now it was here to finish the job.

But then he looked closer. 

It was bigger than the one Yugi had in him, nearly by fifty percent. The strange, pupiless eyes on its oblong face were white, not red, and it was a murkier, wetter black. 

It was… 

“Doctor Bakura…” he breathed out.

“What do we do?” the voice on the other end

* * *

cried.

“Get into the panic rooms immediately. This thing will kill without hesitation. Put the entire building on lockdown.”

Slicked with sweat and pulsing with adrenaline, Kaiba slammed the phone into the cradle and stood up. 

What could it possibly want? Out of all the buildings it could choose to climb up…

It didn’t seem like a coincidence, not to Seto Kaiba.  Glass burst and then scattered like so many solid, sharp raindrops. It had taken but a couple of blows from large, black fists to shatter the thick window, and then it was climbing inside, so nimble for something so brutish in size and manner. It was crouching amongst the broken glass.

_ “So fast, like insects scrambling for shelter,” _ he rumbled, and it trailed off with a throaty, inhuman chuckle.  _ “As they should.” _

A laboratory. They were keeping the puzzle box in a laboratory. 

_ “Where art thou… Pharaoh?” _

* * *

_ “We were sealed away before he could manage to make me his next meal. Though I know, with determination such as his, he still hunts for me.” _

* * *

But there was one, a shaking and shivering woman quivering in the bathroom. It took a half-hearted tackle for him to take down the locked door. 

_ “Oh, little mouse. Come here.” _

A loud wail, and slimy black lips parted wider into a blood-curdling grin.

_ “I don’t want to hurt you,” _ he rumbled. He towered easily over the stall and peered down at her.

Streaked with tears and snot and despair, she looked utterly pathetic and wholly delicious. 

The long pink tongue rolled out, and she cried louder. 

Thick claws curled around the upper edge of the door, and but a twitched from corded arms and he was ripping the door right off. It came with a horrible metallic shriek that easily muffled the woman’s piercing scream. He tossed the door -- crumpled like waste paper -- aside, and one massive foot stepped within, and he was looming over her. 

_ “Do you want to live, little mouse?” _ He rumbled, and his tongue flicked out -- nearly a meter long -- to brush her wet, salty cheeks. They taste so much better when they are soaked in tears, he decided. 

She shuddered and sobbed, but she managed a shaky nod. 

Black receded, and hovering above her was a pale, delicate boy with bloodshot eyes.

“Then you’ll tell me where the laboratory is.”

* * *

Kaiba’s eyes widened when he saw the figure stalking about the halls of KaibaCorp Tower. White hair, ruffled and unkempt. Pale skin stained pink and brown with blood.

Ryou Bakura. Doctor Bakura’s only living child. 

That means the remains… 

The beast had devoured its previous host. 

A woman, shaking with fear -- visible even through the security cameras -- glancing back at her captor with wide, horrified eyes. 

It seemed that it had gotten itself a guide. No matter how unwilling.

Where did it want her to take it?

* * *

His presence behind her was oppressive in the elevator, and her finger shook as she extended it to press the button.

“T-The doors past the elevator terminal will be locked. I-I don’t have clearance to get past them,” she whimpered, gripping the railing as her knees threatened to give out under the weight of her mortal fear. 

“Worry not. Doors are no obstacle for me,” he chuckled darkly.

His voice reminded her of those voice encryptors. Multi-toned, like several voices speaking at once. Deep and horrid and malevolent. His voice dripped with delighted, depraved malice. He said he would spare her if she helped him, but she doubted it. He would surely kill her after he got what he wanted, she was certain.

_ Ding, _ and, stumbling and breathless, she led him out of the elevator. Just as she had said, the doors before them where sealed shut. The researchers had cardkeys, she knew. 

But this slight, pale boy stepped forward, and his delicate hands curled around the door handles. Black pulsed along the veins on his arms, and with what seemed like the slightest tug, he was wrenching the doors off their hinges as if he were yanking a tablecloth off a dining table. She shuddered with horror. He could probably tear a man in half with a quarter as much effort. 

Immediately, alarms blared, shrill, banshee-like, and the boy -- the monster -- snorted with annoyance. 

He discarded the crumbled doors to the side. 

He went to cross the threshold, and her instincts seized the moment. She darted back, dodged into the fortuitously still-open elevator, and pressed a button. 

He grinned, maniacal and dark over his shoulder, but it was cut off by the doors sliding closed. Her sigh of relief was a cry, and she collapsed against the wall of the elevator with a sob. 

* * *

Kaiba let out a breath when he saw his employee dart into the safety of the elevator. 

“Thank god,” he muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face. 

The monster wearing Ryou’s face only grinned, unhinged, rather like an escapee from some asylum than the mild-mannered boy he was supposed to be. He advanced through the threshold.

The laboratories? What could he possibly want there?

And then it struck him all at once. 

The puzzle box.

He was looking for the other organism. 

But that one was long gone. It was wherever it had taken Yugi after their alleyway encounter. The only way it could have known about it was… if…

If it had access to Reiji Bakura’s thoughts and memories. 

With a snarl that rippled over the speakers, the beast advanced farther, tearing off doors and staring into each laboratory and supply closet and storage room as it went. Kaiba gulped. A few more doors and it would find where they had decided to keep the box. It was still under continuous study and scrutiny. The technology alone --

And then the beast paused at its current door. With a chilling, animal-like turn of its head, it looked farther down the hallway. 

“There you are.”

The words drifted, rough and gravelly, over the speakers. A growling, undulating chuckle, and it stepped toward that door. Hinges screamed in protest, a glass window shattered under the attention, and the door was cast aside as if it were nothing more than garbage. He stalked inside. And paused.

The heavy golden puzzle box was sitting on a table. Opened.

Empty.

Black pulsed around his figure. But a swing of his arm and a blood-curdling roar, the box was flying across the room and smashing into the glass window of a cabinet. 

_ “No! Where is he?!” _

A dark surge, wet slime, and a monster stood in Ryou’s place. A jaw dropped open, distended wide, dozens of sharp teeth parted like some nightmare-fueled bear trap, another angry bellow that made instruments shiver in their cabinets. 

_ “You have escaped me for the last time!” _

* * *

The fear vibrating through their bond shook Yugi to his core. 

The beast was genuinely afraid of this other… parasite. 

_ If it comes to it, I’m sure we can fight him off, _ Yugi thought, mostly to himself.

_ “I have little hope of that.” _

_ What? So you’re saying that we’re doomed? _

_ “More or less.” _

* * *

The beast basically bored a hole back to the outside, roaring and raging all the while.

Kaiba thought it was safe to say that the beast was  _ not a happy camper. _

The tore and smashed its way through the bowels of KaibaCorp tower. Black limbs extended into solid shapes, resembling blades or axes, to cleave through doors it decided it didn’t have enough time to rip down. 

Kaiba had figured it all wrong.

He’d thought that they would be equal threats, did not think that they would have differences in abilities or strength.

He was _ wrong _ . 

This  _ thing _ wearing Ryou’s body was… indescribably dangerous. It was larger, stronger…  _ angrier _ . It had rage like a mad bull, and violent intent like a rabid dog. Yugi could seemingly curb the brutal urges of his passenger, but Ryou had no such control.

With a gulp, he palmed his clammy face.

The beast finally crashed through a glass window to leap outside, and it quickly fell out of view of his camera.

He had to find a way to combat them,  _ and fast _ .

Or all of Domino City would be on the menu.

* * *

“Thinking he can just toss me aside like that… little shit will see what’s what…” Gozaburo grumbled. That annoying prick of a so-called son might have wrested control from his grasp, but there were still innumerable little moles on his side. Money and fear were the segues of the business world, and Gozaburo still had both in his grasp. 

As if cued in to his thoughts, his cell rang. 

"What's going on?" He snapped, impatient for the news.

"There's another organism. It just broke into KaibaCorp Tower. It left but a  few minutes ago."

"And the other one?"

"We don't know it's location. This one seems to be searching for it. You… you should have seen it, Mr. Kaiba. It was magnificent."

"I want it," Gozaburo growled. "I don't care what you have to do. Assemble a collection team and get me that symbiote. Steal it right from under that punk's nose if you must."

* * *

Despite Seto Kaiba's swift, decisive, and rather elegant takeover of KaibaCorp, there was, of course, still a faction within the company that immediately sided with their previous president and CEO. However, it could be said that these people were not following Gozaburo out of loyalty or any other sort of feeling of devotion.

No, Gozaburo Kaiba was a tyrant, but still within his grasp were materials the likes of which could never see the light of day.

These people cowered in Gozaburo's shadow for self-preservation, not out of admiration. 

Some rallied under Gozaburo's flag simply because they were cowardly old men who feared the power, strength, and youthful cunning Seto Kaiba was already bringing into play. 

Seto Kaiba had already made it obvious that he was there to effect revolution and innovation in KaibaCorp. It had grown stagnant in recent years, stale as old men in board rooms became lazy and fermented in their wealth. 

_ New _ , Seto Kaiba needed new ideas, new faces, new energy to revitalize the company and bring it back to its former glory. Old men who wished for nothing more than to spend their money on pretty women and fast cars would simply not meet his needs. 

In other words, the board members felt a purge on the horizon. 

It had started with his own father, and, one by one, he would hunt them down and expel them from their places in power. He was ruthless, and he was tenacious, a lone wolf, but with cunning such as his, it was only a matter of time before he had a pack of young followers trailing at his heels. 

Yes, they were about to bear witness to the slaughtering of a dynasty, only for a new empire to be built upon its ashes. 

And how they feared it. 

So when they received the call from Gozaburo, they rushed to appease him.

Yes, they would dispatch men in pursuit of the second creature, despite Seto's orders to stand down until further knowledge was gained. With this victory, leverage could finally sway in Gozaburo's favor and their perches would be secure. 

But little they knew of the beast they were dealing with.

* * *

It was within minutes of the beast's departure from that window that the team was dispatched. They spared no expense -- drones scoured the skies above, their tiny electronic eyes scanning the streets -- armed and armored men piled into black vans. Pelting across rooftops, the organism was easy to track in broad daylight.

Though following it was a different matter altogether. 

But the beneath the armor, the men perspired, though not from the heat.

They’d heard the tales, the stories of gore and the rumors of missing men who had been in their places not days before. Perhaps instinctual, some primal animal sense not quite lost by human evolution, they felt it deep within. 

They were lambs being sent off to the slaughter. 

Guns don’t work.

Tasers don’t work.

What were they supposed to do?

None voiced their concerns. They swallowed them down, clutched their guns tighter.

Like a child might clutch a blanket.

* * *

Perhaps he had gone numb from the pure, terrified anxiety clouding his thoughts, but Yugi suddenly noticed the buildings rushing by below them. 

He recognized them.

_ Where… where are we going? _

No response.

_ Where are you taking us!? _

Though deep inside he knew, and his heart stuttered, horrified, in his chest, as they loped closer and closer to a certain apartment building.

_ Hey! Stop! No! Turn around! Right now! _

But the beast didn’t listen. If anything, it pushed harder, as if the physical exertion could somehow keep Yugi from taking control or holding them back.

_ You’ve put enough people in danger already! _

Yugi was frozen, paralyzed. He could only watch as they, nimble as a flea, leapt onto that particular roof. They did not continue on as Yugi had hoped they would, did not use this building simply as a stepping stone in their twisted, aerial version of Frogger. 

No, they scaled down the brick siding as easily as a gecko or spider. The black receded from Yugi’s skin, but he was not yet the master of his own body. 

The door to the vestibule was locked -- of course, a guest usually could not get in without being buzzed in by one of the residents. But instead of ripping the door off as Yugi feared it might, the beast only lifted a hand. A pulse, black slime filling in the keyhole, and then the audible click of the deadbolts disengaging.

Yugi watched with wide eyes.

Not for the first time, everything felt suddenly unreal, like he had just unlocked a cheat on a video game that allowed him to pick any lock.

He tensed his muscles when the door swung open by -- apparently -- his own hand. That rush of cold, the one that compelled him forward just like a hard shove, or perhaps a hard tug, like a puppet on strings. He was stumbling through the halls, and the growling in his head seemed to ripple his brain matter.

_ “Why are you being so difficult?!”  _ that rumbling voice snapped between his ears.

_ First my grandpa, then Kaiba… _ Yugi strained back.

The closer they got to that one door, the harder Yugi fought, thrashing against the cold chains wrapped tight about him. They collapsed against the wall. Skin blotched red in some areas and pale in others. Cold sweat, panting breaths.

_ Please… no… _

_ “She will  _ **_help_ ** _ us, Yugi.” _

_ At what cost? _

He’d lost everything so suddenly. His normal life, his peace of mind, his privacy, his grandfather. Putting everyone and everything in danger. Exhausted, physically and emotionally, he surrendered, and they staggered forward and slumped bodily against her door. Trembling white knuckles lifted up and rapped faintly against the wood. 

With their advanced senses, they could hear the shuffling and breathing on the other side. Yugi closed his eyes tightly. 

_ I know I’m going to regret this. _

They dragged themselves off of the door as footsteps came nearer.

The door opened, and Yugi guiltily met wide blue eyes.

“Yugi, what are you doing here?”

“Hi, Tea.”

* * *

The beast perched from the rafters and eye the carnage below with something akin to delight. Perhaps they thought it was fortuitous that they had cornered him in a warehouse, but they had only met their doom. 

A long, slick tongue swiped over gore-stained teeth. He hadn’t such a large meal since the desert. 

Strange little things floated about. Drones, his host’s memories and thoughts told him. They were far away and faint, like whispers in the fog. The best, for sure. A shrill ringing caught his attention, and he looked back down to the scattered viscera and huge pools of blood. 

He jumped down. Gore splashed up about him. 

He ducked low to a discarded, shredded piece of clothing. A cell phone. 

Black dissolved and there stood a pale boy, whose hand easily crept into the pocket and pulled out a cell phone. It wasn’t too difficult to answer, and he lifted it up to his ear. He said nothing, but he could hear his own controlled breathing fuzz into the receiver. 

“Let’s make a deal. You want that other symbiote, right?”

A rumbling growl.

“Then I’m sure you wouldn’t mind some help. But only for a price.”

A pause, and then that voice, dichotomous and hair-raising.  _ “Name your price.” _


End file.
